For The Love of the Game
by Bron
Summary: The Practice/X Files Crossover, when Lindsay is kidnapped Mulder and Scully lend a hand
1. The Dream

  
FOR THE LOVE OF THE GAME  
BY BRON  
  
  
  
PART 1 – THE DREAM  
  
The elements were shifting, he could feel it. Something evil was stirring. Fire, Air, Earth and Water all battling for supreme domination. He watched as if from the sideline as tornado's swept the land, tidal waves rose in an arc that managed to be both beautiful and terrifying at the same time, before crashing down and covering as much of the earth as they could. Lava spewed forth from volcanoes melting a path of destruction in their wake and fighting for their own point of dominance and polar ice caps melted creating vast oceans where once whole continents had stood.   
  
It was mass destruction and he was powerless to stop it. He was also terrifyingly on his own.  
  
But then as if by some stroke of magic, he felt another presence. Perhaps more than one. He whirled to his left, looked past the chaos that surrounded him. He could just make out in the distance a tiny structure, 'A hut' he thought or possibly a shed, because it was certainly too small to be anything else. Thick black smoke drifted past obscuring his view and he closed his eyes to it as they started to burn. His instinct told him to move towards the hut, to seek out that other life and offer comfort, but fear held him back. What would happen if he stepped off this small area that had served as his refuge? Would he too be swallowed up by the fire or the sea? What comfort could he provide if he also died? But then the black smoke passed and as his vision cleared again he could see the structure. Except this time it was closer and he realised his first assessment had been wrong. It wasn't a hut, or a cabin or even a shed. It was a room. One room that he thought must be part of some larger building. Whether it had all been destroyed or not he didn't know. None of this made sense to him.   
  
He stayed where he was but squinted his eyes and concentrated to see more clearly. The windows of the room were small, barely big enough to fit a man through, but the glass shone untouched by the war of destruction that raged on outside. Suddenly his vision changed, it was as if he himself were inside the room. His eyes travelled everywhere taking in the bleakness of the covered walls, the dark grey foam a direct contrast to the bright rugs that covered the floors and the surprisingly cheerful, though sparse furniture that he saw. A bright blue overstuffed arm chair sat in one corner, complete with red and yellow cushions, a small side table sat beside it, with a lamp offering the only light in the room.  
  
He turned his head to take in more but found it difficult to manoeuvre. He couldn't place why until he saw the bindings, there was a bed beneath him, rope attached to the wrought iron frame, slightly rusted from age, the paint covering it, discoloured and chipped. He would have studied the area further but a flash of light caught his attention and he turned back towards the lamp just in time to see a hand reach out for an object. He hadn't noticed anything else on the table the first time he'd looked, now he wondered how he could have missed it.   
  
It was a knife, silver, with a patterned carving that was so intricate he couldn't make it out from the other side of the room. The handle was large enough to fit comfortably in a mans hand and gave little doubt to the length of the blade. A red stone setting towards the hilt reflected off the light. Moving wasn't an option, so he could do nothing but watch as the hand that now held the knife moved it closer towards him. For a moment the light that reflected off the handle bounced off the face of it's owner and the madness and anger he could see in the eyes that stared back at him caused his heart to seize in fear. The knife was closer now, close enough for the pattern to be clear. It was a long engraved serpent, it's body wrapping around the handle, it's head poised as if to strike, it's eye a blood red ruby stone.   
  
With a careless flick the owners thumb passed over a barely noticeable switch and the blade streamed out. Six inches of gleaming steel, razor sharp and undoubtedly lethal. It arced upwards and again caught the light, however this time the reflection wasn't aimed at it's owner but at him. For the second time in as many seconds, his heart froze, the face of the person he saw in the reflection didn't belong to him as he'd been expecting, he could have coped with that had it been, he'd been prepared for it. Even with the bruising and the swelling of the features there was no mistaking the identity of the person who stared back at him. He watched as her lips moved and he saw his own name form on them, he could almost hear the anguish with which is was uttered. And then the knife began it's downward motion, moving ever closer and not being able to watch he closed his eyes to the inevitable.   
  
A second later they sprang open again.  
  
With a strangled sob tearing from his throat he bolted upright in bed. He was drenched with sweat, it mixed with the tears tracking down his cheeks, some gathered on his jaw before dropping onto his neck to continue their journey. He reached up with both hands to wipe them away.   
  
"It was just a dream" He said in a voice that wavered. Closing his eyes tightly and covering his face he repeated it more firmly "It was just a dream". He repeated it a few more times in his head until he almost believed it, until he was able to open his eyes and drop his hands to his sides, until he looked to the other side of the bed, that was usually occupied. But it wasn't occupied now, he was alone. And his mind went back to the image of another bed, of the woman that was strapped to it and he said her name with much the same anguish he thought he'd heard from her.  
  
"Lindsay"  
  
* * *  
  



	2. Sunday

  
SUNDAY  
  
One week earlier.  
  
He could never quite explain the combination of emotions that ran through him at the sight of his wife nursing their infant child. But then he supposed that some things were better off not explained but simply felt. He watched from the doorway as Lindsay ran her hand down Rob's cheek, watched his brow crinkle in concentration and his little hand fist at her breast. As if sensing his presence she looked up through tired eyes and smiled at him.  
  
"What are you doing up?"  
  
He shrugged and abandoned his position near the door in favour of resting against the changing table "I couldn't sleep and when I noticed you were no longer beside me, I thought I'd come and find you and…." He gestured with his head "Offer my assistance"  
  
She smiled, as he'd meant her to as she looked down at the baby guzzling his breakfast "I don't think this is anything you can assist me with"  
  
"I haven't got the right equipment, hey?"  
  
She lifted Rob up, swapped sides and watched as he settled back down "I don't believe so"  
  
"Well then how about if I just offer company?"  
  
"That'd be nice"  
  
He moved to settle into a more comfortable position and thought life, quite possibly didn't get any better than this.  
  
* * *  
  
In another part of the city, another man was thinking exactly the same thing.   
  
He wandered slowly around the basement of the small house he'd recently purchased. Paid for in cash, because nobody could ever say that Edmund Harrison didn't learn from his mistakes. There'd be no paper trail to follow him this time. No clues to his whereabouts except the ones he'd reveal. This time the game would be played with his rules. He'd lost last time, partly due to over confidence and partly, he liked to think, because of bad luck but that wouldn't happen now, nine years in prison had given him ample time to refect upon his mistakes and ample time to figure out how to correct them. This time he was playing to win and he'd be damned if he didn't. He was almost certain he'd covered all of his bases, but he wasn't overly worried about it, if he hadn't, he thought, he'd just cover them as he went along. He was ten times smarter than anyone else anyway.  
  
That thought cheered him immensely and put him back in the good spirits he'd been in when he'd woken, keen to start the day. He hummed to himself as he picked up a sheet of the specially designed foam he'd ordered under an assumed name and again paid cash for. He raised the staple gun to the wall and firmly attached the sheet, then stood back to survey his handy work. Yes it would do, he decided, it would do just fine, when he was finished the room would be barricaded against sound. Insulated against people who would pry into his business. He chose another sheet and attached it to the wall and then another, until the entire room was covered in the foam. There were small windows about three quarters of the way up the wall, where the front lawn of the house met the wall of the basement, but he covered those as well. He didn't need air from that source, he'd thought of another method, indeed he was sure he'd thought of everything.   
  
When he was finished he took out the small radio he'd brought with him, turned the volume onto full and covered his ears as the sound blasted out. He detested loud noise, but the experiment was necessary. Hurriedly he reached for the latch on the door, now nearly obscured by the covering he'd just added and he wrenched it open. For a brief second the noise followed him out until he secured it firmly behind him. He felt the silence wash over him.   
  
His experiment was a success.  
  
He allowed himself only a brief moment of self congratulations, before opening the door again, turning off the infernal noise and exiting the room. He couldn't get too over confident at this stage, hadn't that been his downfall before? Little errors that had lead to his capture before the game could be concluded. But that wouldn't happen this time, this time he'd do things right. Still, he couldn't shake his happy mood as he wandered into the kitchen to prepare breakfast, things were going so nicely. Although he knew he still had a lot to do before he was ready to play.  
  
He still needed to choose his prey.   
  
* * *


	3. Monday

MONDAY  
  
She was running late.  
  
These things happened when you had a baby, Lindsay reasoned. By the time you got through feeding him; changing him; dropping him off at his grandfathers, along with instructions and phone numbers and then fighting traffic, it was hard to stick to a schedule. She fumbled around with her handbag as she walked quickly on, searching for her cell phone amongst everything else that she carried. She'd just managed to grab hold of it when she ran into the stranger, the impact had her stumbling backwards, her bag went flying.  
  
"I'm sorry" she said, bending down and gathering things before they fell into the gutter. Lipstick; palm pilot; tissues and keys were all thrown haphazardly back into her bag.  
  
"No harm done" the man assured her as he helped her stand up "You dropped this as well" He handed her back her purse.  
  
"Thanks" she gave him a quick smile as she threw it in with everything else.  
  
"You weren't hurt were you?"   
  
"No. I really should have been looking where I was going. It's totally my fault"  
  
"You seem in a bit of a rush"  
  
She'd been looking around to make sure she hadn't dropped anything else, now she looked up to meet his eyes. She was surprised at how cold they appeared, even though his tone had been nothing but polite. "I'm running late"   
  
"Well then, I won't keep you" with a slight nod of his head he took a step around her and continued walking.  
  
Lindsay felt a chill race up her spine, that she couldn't quite explain. She shook her head and kept going.  
  
* * *  
  
"You're late" Helen whined, as soon as Lindsay sat down "I was beginning to think you'd stood me up"  
  
"Sorry" Lindsay muttered, distractedly.  
  
"Lindsay you've just kept me waiting, the least you can do is listen to me when I complain about it" She took a closer look at her friend. Noticed something wasn't quite right "What's the matter?"  
  
"What?" Lindsay shook her head and focussed on Helen "Sorry, I just bumped into someone outside, it was weird"   
  
"Ooh anyone I know?"   
  
"No, I mean I bumped into him literally. I wasn't watching where I was going and then bam, I nearly went flying."  
  
"You weren't hurt were you?" Helen was instantly worried.  
  
"No. I'm fine, I didn't fall"  
  
"Then what's the problem?"  
  
"Just the guy I ran into" Lindsay shrugged, not sure what she was trying to say "He was giving me a strange look"  
  
"Probably wondering how to ask you out." Helen sighed, dramatically for effect "You get all the guys, its not fair"  
  
"Trust me I don't think you'd want this one" she shuddered again, thinking of the cold look he'd been giving her "There was something not quite right about him"  
  
"Yeah well, when you haven't had a date in over three months, you tend to get less choosy." She let out another sigh "God. If I don't get some soon I'm going to explode"  
  
"Helen!" Lindsay looked around the room, to see if anyone had overheard her friends outburst. "Would you keep you're voice down when you say things like that!"  
  
"Lindsay, wake up, it's called advertising. If I keep my voice down how are the guys supposed to hear and come calling?"  
  
"I don't know if you've noticed it Helen, but there are no guys in here"  
  
"None?" Helen turned her head, taking in the other patrons, they were, as Lindsay had stated all female. "Damn, oh well that was a wasted effort. I know lets go somewhere else, preferably with more guys and we can try again."  
  
Lindsay laughed "You're incorrigible"  
  
"Actually I was thinking desperate, but either word works. So enough chatter about the sex that I'm not getting, it just depresses me to think about it. Lets talk about something else. How's Rob?"  
  
"He's great" Her smiled bloomed as it always did when she thought of him "In fact I just got the latest set of pictures developed" she hunted around in her bag and finally came up with them. Opening the packet she started handing them to Helen one by one "This one's him taking a bath and this one's him on his new blanket. Now this one…."  
  
"Lindsay" Helen interrupted, she waited until her friend looked up "I have eyes and a reasonable intelligence, I think I can pick out a tub and a blanket. Hand me the photo's"   
  
"Oh, right" Lindsay handed them over and watched while Helen oohed and ahhed. Finally when she'd looked through them all three times she handed them back.   
  
"They're great, I especially love the one with him and the blue bear, can I have a copy of that?"  
  
"Sure" She put the photos back in her bag "I'll give it to you next time I see you"  
  
"Thanks. So where is the little guy?"  
  
"He's at Stephens, Bobby's going to pick him up after work."  
  
"Oh, I thought you might bring him along, I wanted to see him again."  
  
"Ah, so you didn't want to talk to me at all, this was just a ruse to get to play with my son"  
  
"Well sure, cause you've got to have priorities" She ducked away from the napkin that Lindsay threw at her.   
  
"You only just saw him on the weekend" Lindsay pointed out.  
  
"What? Is there a limit to how many times I can see him now?" She sniffed, as if wounded. "I guess that's understandable, I mean it's not like I'm his Godmother or anything"  
  
Lindsay shook her head, she knew somehow that would get worked into the conversation "I've already told you, you get the next one"  
  
"That's assuming there'll be another one"  
  
"There will be I promise"  
  
"Really?" Helen sat up straighter "Is there something you want to tell me?"  
  
"No" Lindsay nearly choked on the mouthful of water she'd just taken "It's a little soon yet"  
  
"Oh" Helen looked disappointed "I thought you were dropping a hint. You know how good I am at picking up on the subtle things"  
  
"Yes Helen" She rolled her eyes "I was merely saying that if it's the lengths we have to take to stop you from whining about not being a Godmother, than that's what we'll do" She didn't mention that Bobby was trying to talk her into having four children, so far she'd wheedled him down to three, she was still working on him though, she thought they could probably compromise on two.  
  
"I wasn't whining" Helen said, giving Lindsay her most offended look "I was only pointing out that Rob might have been my only chance is all"  
  
"Well if we don't end up having any more we'll buy a dog, how's that?"  
  
"Lindsay! I don't want to be Godmother to a dog"  
  
"I'm just trying to help"  
  
"Well you're failing miserably, so lets change the subject again. What are you going to order?"  
  
* * *  
  
He couldn't believe his luck.  
  
He'd decided to walk around the city to scout out potential candidates, but he hadn't expected to walk into one. Literally. She was perfect, she fit all his requirements, in appearance, size, age. Yes, she was definitely the one.  
  
He rolled out the colourful floor coverings he'd brought, he liked them they were cheerful, yet tasteful. A good combination in his book. And they'd provide comfort from the harsh cement flooring, he didn't want her to be uncomfortable after all. Besides after he'd won the game he'd probably be able to use them at the next city he went too, they were the sort of colours that would fit in anywhere. He preferred not to be wasteful. He'd already decided to move one of the overstuffed armchairs from the living room upstairs into the corner, the blue colouring of the chair was a perfect match for the mat that he'd just lain down and he had a side table that would fit in nicely too, everything was coming together so well.   
  
The bed was already in the far end of the room, it had taken him a bit of manoeuvring to get it into the basement on his own, but it was hardly the type of thing he could ask assistance for. Little things like that led to errors and he was smarter now, those were the mistakes he was going to avoid. He looked towards the rope lying neatly in the middle of the bed, he'd thought long and hard about whether to use rope or handcuffs, but in the end he'd decided on the rope, it was simply much quieter than the handcuffs would be and he really did detest noise, in any fashion.   
  
Content that he'd done enough for the day, he closed the door behind him and wandered back upstairs. He'd thought briefly that afternoon of following his chosen one to wherever she was headed, but then deemed that action unnecessary. He thought that might be a little obvious, there was always the chance that she might spot him, which was an unnecessary risk. He'd managed to get a good look at her drivers licence when he'd had her purse, he knew her address off by heart and if he knew where she lived, then she had no way of escaping him.   
  
No, tomorrow was soon enough to start following her, today was a day for planning.  
  
* * *


	4. Tuesday

TUESDAY  
  
It was hot.  
  
And after a day of shopping and carting around an eight month old, all she could think of was how much she'd kill for a comfortable chair and a cup of coffee. But she still had to drop into the office, Lindsay sighed and resigned herself to that as she wandered up the street. On most days she was very happy with the new work arrangement, she had the best of both worlds, spending time with Rob and still being able to practice the law. But unfortunately because of her part time status she hadn't been available to take a lot of the high profile cases that she'd been used to dealing with. Now she felt more like a glorified law clerk and it was frustrating her. She wondered if Ellenor felt the same way.   
  
A hot gust of wind blew by and caused a shiver to go up her spine, she looked over her shoulder as she entered the lobby of the building that housed the law office. She'd been feeling a little weird all day, kind of spooked, like someone was watching her. Which was ridiculous, she told herself as she pushed the button for the elevator, it was obviously all in her imagination. Although why she'd want to imagine that she wasn't quite sure.   
  
Fortunately the elevator was empty when it arrived, which wasn't unusual because there was rarely a crowd in the old building and after a brief struggle she squeezed the pram and all her bags inside. The trip up was short and mercifully cool, so she figured that going to the office probably had it's perks after all.   
  
Rebecca and Jimmy were in mid argument when she walked into the room.   
  
"You screwed it up." Rebecca was saying, well yelling really "You never should have asked him about his alibi Jimmy. You made us look like idiots in there."  
  
"Rebecca if it looks like we're hiding anything it's only going to work against us, we needed to get that out in the open."  
  
"It makes him look guilty!"  
  
"Hello! News flash Rebecca he is guilty, it's kind of hard at this stage to make him look innocent."  
  
"It's our job to make him look innocent Jimmy. If you want to put him away become a D.A.! Not that they'd have you." She muttered.  
  
"That's nasty, Rebecca. We need the jury to trust us, it's the only way we'll win."  
  
"No what we need is damage control, don't worry about it…." She trailed off when she saw Lindsay and Rob by the door. Turning her back on Jimmy she walked over to them. "There's my little guy." She bent down to lift Rob out of the pram.  
  
"Hello to you too." Lindsay stated, sarcastically.  
  
"Sorry." Rebecca flashed her a smile "How are you Lindsay?"  
  
"Fine." She dumped her bags on her desk. "And you guys?" She asked, looking between Rebecca and Jimmy.  
  
"Don't ask." Lucy piped up. "They've been at each others throats for over half an hour now." She gave them both an annoyed look.  
  
Ignoring her as they were prone to do Jimmy took a step forward "I want to hold him." He said to Rebecca.  
  
"No." She looked down at the baby resting his head on her shoulder, his eyes were just starting to droop. "He's happy."  
  
"You keep hogging him." Jimmy whined. "He probably doesn't even know what the rest of us look like."  
  
"Well in your case that would be a good thing, wouldn't it Jimmy?"  
  
"That's mean Rebecca." He stomped back to his desk.  
  
Lindsay shook her head and turned back to Lucy, "Where's Bobby?"  
  
"If he has any sense he's locked in his office, with ear plugs in."  
  
Lindsay laughed "I'm just going to join him, see if he has a spare set."  
  
"Get me some too." Lucy muttered, as Lindsay walked away. She shot Jimmy and Rebecca another glare and went back to work.  
  
"Hey." Lindsay popped her head around the door to Bobby's office and then stepped fully inside.  
  
"Hey yourself." He rose from his chair and went to meet her by the door, closing it behind her. "Sorry," he said, "But those two have been driving me crazy all afternoon." He lent down to kiss her.  
  
"So I've been told. I think Lucy's about ready to strangle them, which could be interesting to watch." She settled on the sofa across from his desk and watched as he settled beside her. "Where's Eugene and Ellenor?"  
  
"I believe Eugene took a cue from me and barricaded himself in his office, Ellenor gave up and went home, saying that she could get more work done there." He nodded towards the door. "Where are they up too now?"   
  
"Something about Jimmy becoming a D.A. I think."  
  
"Ah, well they're circling around again then, I'm sure Rebecca started with that argument."  
  
"Well now they've got Rob to play with, so hopefully that'll distract them."  
  
"We can only hope. So…" He rested his arm on the back of the chair "What have the two of you been up to today?"  
  
"We went shopping. Personally I didn't want anything, but Rob kept insisting. I'm afraid we spent quite a bit of money."  
  
He winced "I'm sorry I asked."  
  
"Don't worry," She tilted her head up to place a kiss on his chin "We brought you something too."  
  
"Well that's alright then." Amused, he moved his arm to pull her closer "So did you do anything else apart from spend money?"  
  
"We had lunch." She frowned, remembering the odd feeling she'd gotten sitting at the café.   
  
"What's the matter?" He asked, noting her expression.  
  
She tried to shrug it off, but couldn't, the creepy sensation was still with her. "I don't know, I've just felt strange all day. Like someone was watching me. It's been really weird." She shook her head "It's probably just my imagination."  
  
Bobby frowned, Lindsay wasn't the type of person who let her imagination run away from her. And sitting with his arm around her he'd felt the shiver that had run through her body. An unconscious reaction that left him more shaken then her words had. Just the fact that she'd bought the subject up at all was enough to worry him, she usually stewed on things that bothered her before mentioning them. He opened his mouth to comment, but she caught his expression and got in before he could "It was nothing really. I'm sorry I mentioned it."  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
She waved the question away "I'm just being silly." She stood up "I'd better get this work done."  
  
He stood up with her "How long do you think it'll take you?"  
  
She looked down at her watch "About a couple of hours I guess. Why?"  
  
He looked towards his desk and then back at her. "That's about how long it'll take me to finish up here. How about after that we go to Mario's for an early dinner."  
  
She leaned in to give him a light kiss, because she could still see the shadow of worry in his eyes "That sounds nice. I'll be outside."  
  
She left the room, pulling the door closed behind her and he wandered over and opened the blinds so that he could see her at her desk. A knot formed in the pit of his stomach. Lindsay was smiling, her head turned towards Jimmy, her earlier concern erased, it comforted him a little.   
  
But he still couldn't shake his uneasy feeling.  
  
* * *  
  
Edmund wandered around her apartment. It had been pitifully easy to get in. Almost too easy, he clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and wondered why people didn't pay more attention to security. He'd been following her all day, he'd watched her walk, shop, eat. It had been very informative and entertaining in it's own way. But he was under the firm impression that you never really knew a person until you saw where they lived. More importantly how they lived, so here he was.  
  
She had a small child, he hadn't realized that before this morning. It surprised him for a moment and he briefly considered not bothering with her and choosing someone else. But then he came to his senses and not a moment too soon as far as he was concerned. The child was irrelevant to him, in fact he thought now, her family would only add another dimension to the game. Of course he would be careful not to harm the boy, when he took the woman, never hurt children or animals, hadn't that been one of the few lessons his mother had taught him, growing up. Of course his mother was dead now, killed by his own hand so what she'd said, didn't really hold much interest to him either way. Still some lessons stuck with you.  
  
He'd left her, Lindsay he thought, he should get used to calling her Lindsay, they were about to spend quite a bit of time together, it would be best to be on a first name basis. Easier that way. He'd left Lindsay entering an office building on the other side of the city, he didn't know what she was doing there, again at this point that was irrelevant to him. But he figured the travel time alone would give him enough time to search her apartment. He didn't need to know much after all, just the basic floor plan and the exits.  
  
He was careful not to disturb anything, a time or two he'd thought today that she might have sensed him following her. She'd turned in his direction too many times for it to have been a coincidence. Of course she wouldn't have recognized him, the disguise he'd warn had been a far cry from that of the man she'd run into yesterday, he'd seen to that. Disguises had started out as a hobby for him, now they were a useful tool, would continue to be one.  
  
He decided the side window that led to the fire escape was his best method of entry and exit. The window faced an alleyway and didn't appear to garner much attention. The right disguise should get him in and out quickly and most importantly undetected. Walking towards the window he turned the latch and lifted it slightly, opening his bag he reached inside for the clear tape that he'd bought along and carefully he taped back the lock. After making sure there were no noticeable signs of tampering he lowered the window again.   
  
That job taken care of, he turned and continued scouting the basic layout of the apartment. He took the time to open a few draws, look at some photographs, always careful to return everything just the way he'd found it. He was only halfway through searching the master bedroom when the alarm on his watch beeped. It was time to go, he didn't know when Lindsay would be back but he didn't want to take the chance of getting caught. He had to be careful now, he'd come so far.  
  
With one last look around the empty apartment, he let himself out.  
  
* * *


	5. Wednesday

WEDNESDAY  
  
He had it meticulously planned.   
  
Even now, his plan minutes away from fruition he ran through every detail in his head. It was imperative that noting go wrong. He'd watched her again that morning. A few times his eagerness had almost gotten the better of him and he'd been tempted to jump the gun, so to speak. However is resolve had kicked in, this was going to be done properly, patiently and to schedule. And if there was one thing he knew he possessed it was patience.   
  
He'd waited nine years hadn't he?  
  
The garbage truck that had been slowly moving through the alley finally turned into the adjoining street. Sweat started to bead on Edmund's brow as he climbed the first couple of rungs of the fire escape. He'd been hiding in the alley for the last few hours and he knew it was deserted. The cream coverall's he wore bore the emblem of Malco Building Maintenance, as did that of the large bag he currently had hidden beneath them. Nobody ever paid any attention to a person in a uniform, on the slim chance that anyone did see him, they certainly wouldn't think anything of it. He liked to think he had a grasp on human nature.  
  
Agilely he climbed the last three rungs of the ladder before stepping onto the fifth floor landing. Keeping low he moved along until he was directly beneath the window and with slow careful movements lifted his head until he could peer inside. Not seeing anyone in the room beyond, he carefully opened the window and silently climbed through. He knew from his tour of the premises yesterday that the living room adjoined the dining room, where he now stood. The first door on the right of the hallway was the nursery, the second was the master bedroom and to the left was the bathroom and the study.   
  
It took him only seconds to determine that the soft muttering he could hear was coming from the study, he had excellent hearing after all. That more than likely meant that Lindsay was working and therefore wasn't with the boy, which simplified things as far as he was concerned. He didn't want to have to waste valuable time and what was sure to be an emotional scene trying to separate mother and child. With footsteps that were both slow and deliberate and conveniently muffled by the thick carpet he moved up the short hallway. The door to both the nursery and the study were open and Edmund allowed himself only the briefest of moments to ensure that the child was indeed in his crib before continuing on.  
  
He reached into the deep pockets of the coveralls, to retrieve the treated cloth and gripping it firmly he took his first step inside the room. It was a small room, made smaller by the two desks and three bookshelves crammed inside it and it took no time at all for Edmund to close the gap between himself and Lindsay. Her head whipped up as if sensing his presence and her mouth opened as if to scream as he covered it with the cloth. She didn't go quietly her arms flailed knocking a lamp to the ground with a smash and cutting her hand in the process. He felt her involuntary intake of breath and waited, one arm supporting her weight as she lost consciousness, but even then her leg kicked out in a desperate and uncoordinated attempt to free herself. He took no notice as the office chair turned sideways. It took only a few more seconds before he felt her body lose tension and he allowed her to slide to the floor.   
  
Lowering the zip on the front of his uniform he quickly pulled out the reinforced bag he'd prepared and spread it beside her. It was more difficult than he'd imagined to force her inside it and took more time that he would have liked. The delays caused him to be rougher that he'd intentioned, but finally he had her secured and remembering not to zip it completely closed, to allow some air to penetrate, he hauled the bag over his shoulder. He surveyed the room with an eagle eye, noting the broken glass and turned over furniture and most importantly the smear of blood on the edge of the desk, where'd she'd tried to grab hold and pull out of his grasp. Yes, they'd know she'd been taken, he needed them to know that and know it quickly. The rest of the game revolved around the clock now, he couldn't afford to wait for bumbling local detectives to file missing persons reports.   
  
In fact he was going to see to it himself that the case was taken out of their hands. He didn't consider them a challenge to him, certainly they weren't fit to partake in his adventure. No, he set the rules and they quite simply weren't up to par. He'd send the invitation out himself just as soon as he got home. Not bothering to be quiet this time he strode down the hallway and making sure that the cap he'd been wearing as part of his disguise was pulled low over his brow to hide as much of his face as possible, he unloaded his cargo out the window and followed suit.  
  
He thought about leaving it open, part of him wanted too, just to show how easily he'd gained access, but he knew by closing it, it would buy him a small measure of time and at this crucial stage that was exactly what he needed. So with a minimal amount of effort he closed it, leaving the tape where it was and heaving the bag over his shoulder once again he descended the ladder.  
  
* * *  
  
Bobby hung up the phone with a frown. He'd been trying Lindsay for the better part of an hour, it wasn't like her not to pick up if she was home and to the best of his knowledge she hadn't had any plans to leave that afternoon. He dialled her mobile phone again and nearly slammed his receiver back in the cradle when it too continued to ring out. The knot that had formed in his stomach yesterday and never really dissipated came back with a vengeance.   
  
He looked at the mountain of paperwork on his desk and knew he wouldn't be able to concentrate on it until he was sure nothing was wrong. Standing up he grabbed his briefcase and coat on his way out the door, stopping only long enough to tell Lucy to hold his calls. He couldn't sit around and worry any longer, he needed to go home.  
  
* * *  
  
Euphoria!  
  
That was what he felt as he lay Lindsay on bed. He took time to bandage her injured hand because it was still bleeding openly, before securing her hands and feet with the ropes. She was still unconscious as he imagined she'd stay for a few hours yet. That would work to his favour as he still had an invitation to compose and issue. Casting an absent glance towards the chair in the corner of the room, he decided that some throw pillows would go nicely and cheer the place up a little, he'd have to remember to bring some down. And with that thought in his mind he shut the door and climbed the stairs.  
  
He made himself a cup of tea as he waited for the computer to boot and with hands that shook slightly from the anticipation of the challenge, he opened up his email. He'd selected the poem weeks earlier when he'd decided on Boston. In fact he thought the poem might have made the decision for him. He knew the meaning wouldn't be lost on the recipient, knew that within hours of receiving it he'd be on his way south. He was counting on it.  
  
It annoyed him that his hands were slicked with sweat, as he typed in the address to the F.B.I.  
  
He didn't bother with a subject header, it was unnecessary. Looking at the page beside him he typed in his chosen verse.   
  
On the opposite shore walked Paul Revere.   
Now he patted his horse's side,   
Now gazed on the landscape far and near,   
Then, impetuous, stamped the earth,   
And turned and tightened his saddle-girth;  
But mostly he watched with eager search   
The belfry-tower of the Old North Church.  
  
He could have included more of the poem, even briefly considered it. But this section was enough to suit his needs. And quite frankly if his opponent needed any more than that to go on, then he'd seriously underestimated him. If that was the case, Edmund thought, he'd just spend a few entertaining days with Lindsay, until his time frame was up and then he'd kill her and move to a new city and find a more worthy adversary.   
  
It was nothing he hadn't done before.  
  
With a satisfied smile he hit the send key and finished his tea.  
  
* * *  
  
Detective Mike McGuire knelt in front of the window and made notes. This was undoubtedly the point of entry. He'd already questioned Bobby, as much as he could, between the other mans frantic questions of his own. He'd have to get a more thorough statement later. But from the information he'd been able to glean the door had been locked when he'd entered the apartment. Considering Lindsay's handbag, purse and keys were all accounted for, the front door seemed an unlikely method of entry.   
  
Add to that the fact that Lindsay had obviously been attacked in the study and as that was the only room that showed any destruction, it was unlikely she'd let her attacker in. The tape on the window made a pretty handy clue as well. Straightening he looked over as Helen walked through the doorway. She gave him a small nod, before walking towards Bobby.  
  
"Bobby." She said, in a hushed tone as she reached out to hold him. "Are you alright?"  
  
"She's gone, Helen." His voice was muffled against her shoulder and choked with emotion. But no tears fell, she couldn't possibly know how much effort it was taking him to hold them in.  
  
"Can you tell me what happened?"   
  
He shook his head, because the need to be held and comforted was so strong, he deliberately took a step back. He needed to be in control right now, it was the only thing holding him together. "I don't know anything. I could hear Rob crying and I went looking for Lindsay. The study…" He trailed off and fought the urge to close his eyes. Regardless visions of turned over furniture and the blood on the desk burned into his brain. He thought he'd never stop seeing them as long as he lived.   
  
"It's okay, Bobby." Helen reached out to lay a comforting hand on his arm "Why don't you sit down for a minute" she suggested, guiding him over towards the sofa. "Stay here, I'm just going to talk to Mike, I wont be long." She crouched down in front of him as he sank onto the seat "I called your office before I left, Eugene'll be here any minute okay?"  
  
She waited until he nodded, watched his hands tremble as he rested them on his knees. Her own weren't very steady as she pushed herself up. Because of that she shoved them in the pockets of her coat as she walked over to where Mike stood.  
  
"What can you tell me?" She asked, in lieu of a greeting.  
  
"It looks like the assailant entered through here." With a gloved hand he removed the tape from the latch and placed it in an evidence bag. The whole scene had already been photographed from every angle and dusted for prints. "The alley below looks fairly deserted but I have men in the adjoining building questioning the tenants, to see if they saw anything. She was taken from the study." He started to walk towards it, paused when she didn't immediately follow him. "Helen?"  
  
"Sorry." She shook herself out of her reverie and took a step forward, but he stayed where he was blocking her path.  
  
"Are you sure you should be doing this, you might be too close? I can call someone else."  
  
"No." Someone had taken Lindsay, she wouldn't rest until she'd done everything in her power to find her and then make them pay. "Show me the study, Mike."  
  
He watched her for a brief second, he saw the worry and the grief, he also saw the resolve. "Okay." He turned and led her up the hall.  
  
Like the window the study had been meticulously photographed and dusted as well. Mike pulled away the yellow crime scene tape to allow Helen to enter. He watched the blood drain from her face as she did. "Helen?" He put a steadying hand on her back.  
  
"Is she alive Mike?"   
  
"I think so." Her eyes were fixed on the blood on the edge of the desk. He followed her gaze. "The fact that there isn't a lot of blood is encouraging. I need to gather more information but so far all the signs are leading towards abduction."  
  
"By who?"  
  
"I don't know." He tried to keep his tone neutral, didn't exactly succeed.  
  
"What aren't you telling me?"  
  
He shrugged uneasily "I have to wait for the report from the crime scene guys, but Helen, if I had to hazard a guess I'd say this was premeditated."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"The window that he used to enter the apartment locked from the inside. The fact that the latch was taped back but not broken says to me that he had previous access."  
  
A chill ran up her spine "Have you told Bobby that?"  
  
"Not yet, I was just about to question him further when you arrived."  
  
"Mike I think he's going into shock, can't it wait?"  
  
"No." He shook his head "You know it can't Helen, our best chance of finding Lindsay is getting as much information as quickly as possible. Otherwise…" He didn't finish the sentence, he didn't have to, it was clear she understood.  
  
"Okay, I'll come out with you." There was no way she was staying in this room any longer than she had too.  
  
Eugene and Ellenor must have arrived while they'd been in the other room, they sat on the couch flanking Bobby on either side. Eugene started to stand as they approached, but Mike waved him back down. "Bobby I need to ask you some questions, is that alright?"  
  
All eyes turned towards him, he didn't even notice. "Bobby?" Eugene prompted.   
  
"What?" He turned towards Mike and Helen as if surprised by their presence.   
  
"Bobby I need you to tell me what happened." Mike said. "Start at the beginning. Why were you home so early?"  
  
"I was worried." He used his tongue to wet his dry lips. "I'd been phoning Lindsay and she wasn't answering."  
  
"Wasn't it possible she might have gone out?"  
  
He shook his head and focussed on Mike "No, I tried her cell phone too, she would have answered one of them."  
  
"Okay" Mike was making notes. "What were you calling her about?"  
  
"I wanted to make sure she was alright."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Yesterday in the office, she said she had a strange feeling someone was watching her…" He ignored Helen's startled gasp and continued. "She brushed it off, said she must have been imagining it."  
  
"But you didn't think so?"  
  
"Lindsay doesn't have that sort of imagination. It worried me." He wanted to stand, to pace, but with all the people surrounding him it was impossible. "I phoned her this morning, she laughed at me and called me paranoid. I thought I'd try again this afternoon just to be safe. But she didn't answer, so I came home."  
  
"And the door was definitely locked when you got here?"  
  
He nodded "I had to put down my briefcase, to find my keys."  
  
"Then what?"  
  
"I could hear Rob crying, even from outside. I went into the nursery, he was in his cot and I called out for Lindsay but she didn't answer. I was afraid she might have had an accident or something so I went looking for her, I looked in the bedroom, she wasn't there and then I could see the study. And the chair was turned over so I went inside and I saw the lamp and the blood on the desk."  
  
"What did you do then?"  
  
"I called you, I called the police."  
  
"Did you touch anything, move anything?  
  
"Only the phone. I used the one in the study on my desk. It was the closest one."  
  
"Okay Bobby, that should do for now." Mike took a step away, taking Helen with him. Eugene and Ellenor stood and followed them.  
  
"There's not much else I can do here," Mike began "I'm going to go back to headquarters and try to light a fire under the boys in the lab."  
  
"You'll contact me as soon as you find anything?" Helen asked. He nodded. "Thanks Mike." She watched as he rounded up the few uniformed officers still left at the scene and exited, before turning back to Eugene and Ellenor. "I'm going back to my office, to see if I can't chase up a few leads as well."   
  
She glanced towards the couch that Bobby was sitting in, it was more than obvious he was holding on by a very thin thread. "I don't think he should be left alone."  
  
"I'll stay with him." Eugene volunteered.  
  
Ellenor turned towards him "I think I should take Rob home with me, I don't think Bobby's in any condition to be taking care of him."  
  
Eugene nodded. "I think that would be a good idea. Could you let the rest of the firm know as well?"   
  
"Sure. I'm just gonna….." She made a gesture up the hall "I'll just grab some of Rob's stuff and then I'd better get going, I have to pick Zoe up from the sitters."  
  
"I'll give you a hand." Helen said, leading the way into the nursery.  
  
With only the two of them left in the room, Eugene walked over and sat down next to Bobby. "You should get some rest Bobby."  
  
"Rob…." His voice sounded rusty, so Bobby cleared his throat. "I have to take care of him."  
  
"Ellenor's going to take him Bobby, don't worry about it."  
  
"Is she going to be okay, Eugene?"  
  
Eugene didn't have to ask who he was referring too, he threw an arm over his friends shoulder and pulled him close. "I hope so Bobby."  
  
* * *  
  
It was dark and her head was swimming. She thought there was a very good possibility that she might throw up. Swallowing gamely, she tried desperately to get her bearings, but it was no use. Concentrating was impossible with the headache and nausea she had. She tried to move and it was then that she noticed the restraints, it was impossible to see even a meter in front of her but there was no mistaking the thick ropes that were binding her hands and ankles.   
  
Fear crawled along her skin and settled deep in her stomach. She broke out in a sheen of sweat. For the life of her she couldn't remember how she'd come to get here, or why. She'd been sitting in her study, she thought, working. Rob had been sleeping in the other room.   
  
Rob.  
  
New fear washed over her, as she struggled to try and remember if he'd been hurt. She hadn't heard anything, had she? The throbbing in her head escalated the more she moved. She wanted to reach up and try to relieve some of the stress but of course that was impossible. Tears streaked down her face, partly from pain, partly from worry, mostly from fear. Not so much for herself, although that was certainly element. She needed to know if her baby was alright.   
  
She opened her mouth to scream, yell, cry, anything. But no sound emerged. Her throat was bone dry and red raw. The pain of it mingled with that in her head and threatened to overwhelm her. She fought it for as long as she could, but it was a losing battle.  
  
With one last sob she again lost consciousness.  
  
* * *  
  
  



	6. Thursday

THURSDAY  
  
The email didn't have a subject header, but Mulder was more interested in finding the cup of coffee he was sure he'd poured earlier, amidst the clutter of his desk to pay much attention to that. Catching site of Marvin the Martian grinning at him from the side of the coffee mug Scully had giving him as a gift a few years earlier, he reached out and took a large mouthful. Then he grimaced as he swallowed the cold coffee. Figuring that drinking cold coffee was better than no coffee at all, or God forbid actually brewing a new pot,he took another mouthful as he opened the email. The liquid lodged in his throat as he took in the contents.  
  
"What's wrong?"  
  
Scully's voice from the doorway had Mulder jumping and with an oath he reached out to mop up the coffee he'd spilt on his keyboard. "Scully. I didn't hear you come in."  
  
"That's because technically I haven't yet." She walked through the door and after taking off her coat, she turned to him again. "Mulder you look like you've seen a ghost.  
  
He gave her a wry smile "I guess that'd be right up my alley." but his attention was drawn back to the computer screen and the email. "Actually, in a way I think I have. Well not a ghost so much as a link to the past." He moved the screen so that she could see more clearly as she walked around the desk.  
  
Scully's eyes skimmed over the poem and rested on the image of the woman "Who is she?"  
  
"I have no idea." he turned his head, angled it up so that he could talk to her. "It's not so much who she is, but who sent the email."  
  
"Okay." Scully walked back around and sat in the chair opposite him "Who sent the email?"  
  
"Edmund Harrison." Mulder was halfway towards the filing cabinet before he realised the file wouldn't be in there. With a sigh he settled back into his chair. "Scully we have to go."  
  
She didn't move "Go where?"  
  
"To Boston. We have to leave immediately."  
  
"Why?" She asked, frowning.  
  
Impatient he stood up "Because that's where the poem's referencing. It's all right there."  
  
After six and a half years she was used to Mulder's tangents. At least she thought she was, so she stayed where she was. "It may be all right there for you Mulder, but I'm not connecting the dots. Explain it to me?"  
  
He was already putting on his coat. "I don't have time to explain it now, I'll book the flights, you pack a bag and I'll pick you up at your apartment in an hour."  
  
"Mulder, wait!" She reached out to stop him as he picked up the phone.   
  
"Scully we don't have time to wait, you saw the email."  
  
"Yes I did, but what am I missing? Is this even an X-File? And who is this Edmund Harrison, I've never even heard of him?"  
  
He put down the phone and started searching his desk for his keys. "It's not an X-File Scully and you wouldn't have heard of him, it was before your time, back when I worked in violent crimes."  
  
"Well then, if this is the same person wouldn't this case also belong to Violent Crimes?"  
  
Sometimes her practicality drove him crazy. "No, just go with me on this one, would you? He sent the email to me. He's asking for me personally." Sticking his hands in the pockets of his coat he located the missing keys. That done he headed for the door.   
  
"Where are you going?" Scully called after him.  
  
"To see Skinner, I'll make the bookings on the way to my place. One hour Scully." He disappeared into the elevator.  
  
Gritting her teeth, she took the time to shut down his computer, before grabbing her coat and locking the door behind her.  
  
She guessed she was going to Boston.  
  
* * *  
  
"Okay Mulder, I've been more than patient, but I think I deserve some answers."  
  
She was annoyed with him, he could tell. It was practically radiating off her. They were crowded into the economy section of the airplane, the only seats he could get were in the very last row, where the tail narrowed to only allow for two seats on either side of the aisle. Scully usually liked to keep most of her emotion's pretty well locked in, but unfortunately for him annoyance wasn't one of them. "What do you want to know?"  
  
Exasperated she glared at him. "Anything. Everything. Start with Edmund Harrison, who is he?"  
  
Now that they were travelling he had plenty of time for explanations. "He was a case I helped investigate back in my days with violent crimes, about…." Air escaped between his teeth as he mentally calculated "Nine years ago, I guess. It was the same thing."  
  
"Kidnapping?"  
  
"Yeah. It was actually Reggie's case, he brought me on board. We got a letter, the same format, a poem followed by a picture. We gave it to Cryptology and they determined that the poem was meant to be directions, he was leading us to New York, so off we went. We wasted 36 valuable hours getting that information." He reached into the bag at his feet and handed Scully a file. "He abducted Karen Whitmore, aged 28. She had no family, no-one had even filed a missing person's report. If it wasn't for his letter we never would have even known he had her."  
  
"Why did he tell you?"  
  
"It's a game to him Scully. A challenge. He had the whole thing planned. Made the rules up himself, he just didn't bother to tell us what they were. That was part of his fun, watching us chasing our tails."  
  
Scully looked down at the picture of the vibrant young woman in front of her. "Is she dead?"  
  
His legs were starting to cramp, due to the lack of leg room available. He noticed Scully wasn't suffering from the same problem. He could have switched seats with her and stretched his legs into the aisle, but he liked to sit near the window, it made him feel less nauseous if he could see outside. Even annoyed with him Scully always gave him the window seat. "No. We found her in time."  
  
"How?"  
  
He tapped his hand on his knee as he thought back. "It was more luck than anything. We touched down in New York, headed over to the field office there, by the time we got there another note had been delivered. It said we were running behind time and that we had two weeks to find Karen before the game was over. After that the notes just kept coming, every day we'd get a new clue and a photograph, he sent us on a wild goose chase all though the city. The clues were supposed to lead us to her."  
  
"Supposed to?" Scully raised her eyebrow "I thought you said you found her?"  
  
"We did, no thanks to the notes. Well that's not really true it was thanks to the notes just not the way he meant. Reggie noticed all the notes were printed on the same paper, he had it analysed. It turned out to be some exclusive range, there were only a handful of shops in the city that sold it. Only one who'd sold any recently, he still had the delivery address. We found Karen in the basement of the house, she'd been beaten, but she was alive. We were lucky."  
  
"Mulder, you followed proper investigative avenues that lead to arresting the suspect, how is that luck?"  
  
"It's lucky because we found her on the thirteenth day Scully. We were getting nowhere with his clues, if we had taken one more day, well…."  
  
"So why is he out of prison. Surely he would have gotten longer than nine years?"  
  
"You'd think that wouldn't you?" Mulder shook his head. "Edmund's paternal grandfather left him a lot of money when he died. So he hired himself the best legal team he could buy and by some miracle they managed to convince the jury that when Edmund said the game was over, he actually meant that he was going to release Karen. And that he never had any intention of killing her. He was convicted on charges of kidnapping and felony assault. He'd be eligible for parole by now."  
  
"And you're sure he would have killed her?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
His answer was so certain, it had her eyebrows raising again. "Mulder, what aren't you telling me?"  
  
He sighed and moved in his seat until he was almost facing her. "There was something about that case Scully, I just couldn't let it go. I started doing searches in other cities, to see if anything similar had been reported."  
  
"And there had been?" She prompted.  
  
He nodded. "One other that I found. In Chicago two months before Karen Whitmore was taken. It followed a similar pattern, letters to the police with pictures. This victim was a homeless woman, early thirties, light brown hair, he seems to favour that description. The local police handled the case, there weren't as many notes, or clues to go on. They missed the deadline."  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"Nothing. They stopped getting notes, no one had filed a missing persons report on anyone matching the description of the woman in the photos, so the police decided it must have been a hoax. They kept the file open but stopped investigating it. Four days later Mary-Anne Seymour's body was found on the shore of the Chicago River. It had been weighed down with bricks but apparently he didn't use enough. Although personally I think he wanted the body to be discovered. She'd been strangled."  
  
"You think Edmund killed her?"  
  
"I KNOW he killed her Scully. He played his game with the police and when he won, he strangled her and threw her in the river and moved onto another city, with another victim. He started a new game, with different players."  
  
"Did you give that information to the D.A.? Surely that would have added to the evidence against him."  
  
He sighed. "That was the problem. There was no evidence. I couldn't even prove that he'd been in Chicago at the time. Edmund's very good at covering his tracks, all the leads were empty and as we had him cold on the kidnapping and assault charges I was told not to pursue it any further."  
  
"And now he's out and playing again?"  
  
He turned to look out the window. The plane was circling for a landing, he could see Boston down below. "Yeah, now he's playing again."  
  
Something had been niggling on her mind. "Mulder, why would he risk it? He's just been released from prison, why would the first thing he did, be to go and commit the exact same crime that put him away? Wouldn't he know that we'd suspect him?"  
  
"I'd say he's counting on it. It's ego Scully. We caught him last time, he didn't win the game, so now he's out to prove that he's smarter. He's going to give us a deadline, make us jump through hoops and at the end of the time if we haven't found his latest victim, he'll kill her and it'll all start again."  
  
She bought her seat up to the upright position at the prompt and tightened her seatbelt. "Well we'll just have to make sure he doesn't win."  
  
* * *  
  
Douglas Griffin was in a bad mood. Which wasn't unusual, he was rarely in a good one. At fifty-six he'd worked hard to get to where he was and he knew that A.S.A.C of the Boston field office was likely as high as he'd ever get to go. On most days he didn't really mind that. So he'd never made head of the division, or Assistant Director as he'd once dreamed. He'd still gotten a lot higher than most did in this profession. He might be slower and heavier than he'd once been in his youth, but he thought he was still a damned fine agent.  
  
And the last thing he needed was two Washington people coming to tell him how to do his job.   
  
They always thought they were better then everybody else, just because they worked at headquarters. Well he'd set them straight, first chance he got. If there was a case to be solved on his soil, he and his agents could solve it themselves and that was just what he was going to tell them. Right before he showed them the door.  
  
"Doug" Adam Miller pulled him away from his thoughts. At ten years Doug's junior it still burned him that Adam was running the office. "I just got off the phone to Agent Mulder, they'll be here any minute."  
  
Of course, Adam would be happy about that, Doug thought, he was still harbouring illusions of going all the way to the top. Kissing up to outsiders was what he considered par for the course. It was all about politics. Doug hated politics. "Doug?" Adam prompted when he hadn't gotten a response.  
  
"I heard you, they'll be here soon."  
  
"I want you to work with them if they need it. You know this city better than anyone, you can show them around."  
  
"I've got more important things to do than play tour guide to some out of towners."  
  
Adam bit back a sigh, everything was always a fight with Doug. "They're here investigating a case. I got asked personally by Assistant Director Skinner, to provide any assistance they need. And that's what we're going to do. Am I understood?" He didn't like to lay down a hard line. He preferred to lead by example, earn respect and follow on from there. But one aspect of being a good leader was understanding the people under you and how to keep them in line. And it appeared direct orders were the only thing Doug was prone to follow.  
  
He heard the door open behind him but didn't turn around, preferring to keep eye contact with Doug. When he was sure that his message had been received, he took a step back, turned and fixed a smile onto his face, somehow after talking to Doug he always ended up with a headache.   
  
"Agents Mulder and Scully?" When they nodded he shook both their hands. "I'm Adam Miller, we spoke on the phone. Come on through." He lead them into the conference room and ushered them into seats. As he expected Doug was the last one to enter. "This is my second in charge, Douglas Griffin."  
  
Doug gave a non-committal nod. Mulder and Scully exchanged a glance but didn't say anything.  
  
"So," Adam said, breaking the silence. "Assistant Director Skinner filled me in on most of the details but perhaps you could expand on them a bit?"   
  
Mulder opened the file that he'd put on the table and took out a copy of the email. "I received this early this morning." He handed it to Adam, watched while he read it and passed it to Doug. He reached into the folder again. "I have reason to believe that this man has taken her." He passed Edmunds mug shot along as well.  
  
"And you think he's in Boston?" Adam asked.  
  
"That's what I think the poem's telling us."  
  
"Well then why didn't he just type, I'm in Boston, in the subject header?" It was the first time that Doug had spoken, Adam told him he had to assist, he didn't say anything about being friendly. "Isn't it more likely he'd send you to a city he wasn't in, to give himself more time?"  
  
"More time for what?" Mulder asked.  
  
"You tell me you're the expert."  
  
Adam opened his mouth to step in but Mulder was too used to that sort of attitude to be really phased by it. He waved Adam away and leaned towards Doug. Best to deal with a problem head on. "Alright I will tell you. He wants us to know where he is, because then he can show us how smart he is when he gives us all the clues while avoiding capture. That's the game that he plays, he's cunning and he's ruthless and he uses human lives as pawns, totally with out remorse. He has that woman somewhere in the city, or just on the outskirts of it. If he sticks to pattern he's going to give us a deadline, probably of a couple of weeks, to find her. He'll filter clues through this office, some will be accurate, others red herrings. And if at the end of the time we haven't found her, he's going to kill her."  
  
"Who is she?" Adam voiced the question.  
  
"We don't know. She'll be someone local, his M.O. is to take homeless people or people with out families, so that no one reports them missing. Still I think it would be worth contacting the local police for copies of any missing persons reports filed in the last 48 hours that fit her description. Has a note been delivered here today?"  
  
"No. I've been on the lookout since I took the call."  
  
"Damn." For the first time since Mulder had opened the email he was at a loss. He turned towards Scully. "He always contacted us through the field office before."  
  
"Maybe he still will." She responded. "We got here a lot earlier than you did last time, maybe the note will still arrive."  
  
"No." Something wasn't right. "The note arrived just before we got to the field office last time, almost as if he was watching us, or getting someone else too. It'd be here by now if it was coming. It's got to be somewhere else."  
  
"Maybe it's in the e-mail." Doug put aside his bad humour in favour of the investigation. "Maybe that's what the poems telling you. Not only which city but where to find the next note."  
  
Mulder tossed the idea over in his head. Decided it wasn't outside the realm of extreme possibility. "That could be it."  
  
"Then there's two options. Paul Revere House or the Old North Church."  
  
Mulder stood up. "We'll check them out."  
  
"Doug can go with you." Adam stood as well. "He can show you the way."  
  
"No. That's alright." Mulder shook his head and gathered up the file. "I think I know the way. If you could start contacting the police and running the missing person's that would be a great help." He drew out one of his cards. "You can reach me on this number if a note arrives or you find anything." He nodded at Scully to precede him out the door.  
  
"Mulder, why didn't you accept his help?" She asked as soon as they were in the car.  
  
"Are you kidding Scully, I don't want that guy coming around with us. He'd probably drive us in the wrong direction just for spite." He reached over with one hand to open the glove compartment of the rental car. Steering with the other one. "There's some maps in there, tell me where I'm going."  
  
"Which place are we going to first?"   
  
He chewed on his bottom lip. "The church."  
  
"Why?" She was already looking up the map.   
  
"Paul Revere House is a tourist stop, too many people around. I don't think he'd risk being in such a visible place. But it's pretty easy to sneak into a church undetected."  
  
"Turn left. So how are we going to find this note. I'm assuming it's not going to be taped to the bottom of a pew."  
  
"I don't know? We'll worry about it when we get there I guess."  
  
"Next right and it should be at the end of the street."  
  
He found a spot less than a block away and pulled in, it didn't take long to cover the distance to the Church. He pushed open the door and waited for Scully to enter ahead of him.  
  
It was beautiful inside and larger than she expected. It was also empty. Mulder nudged her from behind. "Lets look around."  
  
They'd just made it to the front area, when the priest stepped out of the side door. "Can I help you?"  
  
Mulder and Scully both reached for their identification. "I'm Special Agent Mulder, this is Agent Scully, could we ask you a few questions?"  
  
"Is anything wrong?"  
  
"No Sir." Mulder put away his ID and pulled out Edmund's mug shot. "Have you seen this man before?"  
  
"Let me see." Pushing his glasses further up his nose he peered at the picture. "I might have, he seems vaguely familiar. Yes." He looked up at Mulder. "A man came in here yesterday, he didn't look like this though, his hair colour was different and he had a beard, but the eyes were the same." He handed the picture back to Mulder.   
  
"He left a letter here, he said someone would be by to get it, but he didn't say who. Normally I wouldn't have taken it but he was most insistent."  
  
"Could you get it for us please?" Scully asked.  
  
The Priest regarded them for a moment before nodding. He ducked into the side door and returned a moment later with the envelope.  
  
"Thank you." Mulder took it from him. "If it's alright I'd like to send someone back to get a description of the man you saw." He waited for the approval. "Thanks again." And then he was ushering Scully back out side.  
  
As soon as they passed through the door he opened the envelope and read the note inside.  
  
"Well? What does it say?" Scully asked.   
  
He scanned it again before he handed it too her. "It says we have one week."   
  
* * *  
  
"Here eat this." Eugene put the plate of eggs in front of Bobby. They were a little on the runny side and the toast was burnt but it was food. "Bobby." He prompted when all he got was a blank stare. "Eat."  
  
"I'm not really hungry." But he picked up his fork and started making swirling motions in the eggs.  
  
"It's 12.30 and you didn't eat breakfast." Eugene sighed. "You're running on empty Bobby, I know you didn't get any sleep last night." He hadn't either. "If you keep going this way you'll collapse by the end of the day. And how will that help Lindsay, or Rob for that matter?"  
  
"How will I help them anyway?" He ate a mouthful of food, grimaced and covered the rest liberally with sauce. "I've been wracking my brains Eugene, trying to think of anyone who could have done this. But I can't."  
  
Eugene tried his own eggs and nearly gagged. He pushed the plate away and settled for toast and coffee. "Mike'll find her Bobby, you know he will. But sometimes these things take time. I know this is hard…."  
  
"You know?" Bobby questioned with his mouth full, he swallowed bravely. "How do you know what it's like?"  
  
"We care about her too, me, Rebecca, Ellenor, Jimmy. You don't think we aren't worried?"  
  
"She's my wife Eugene. I don't think it's the same thing."  
  
"Maybe not." Eugene conceded. "But we want her back too. And all I'm trying to say is that running yourself into the ground isn't the answer."  
  
"Then what is? Sleeping?" He was yelling now. He knew Eugene was trying to help. But he was just so angry, angry at the man who'd done this. And he didn't want to let go of his anger, because as soon as he did the fear would creep back in.  
  
Eugene ignored the harsh tone "Sleeping would be a start. You might get a new perspective after a few hours rest."  
  
He snorted "Yeah sure, I'm sure it'll solve all my problems." But he pushed away from the table. "Maybe I'll take a walk."  
  
"I'll come with you. Keep you company."  
  
"If I wanted company I'd stay here." He bit back a sigh and scrubbed his hands over his face. "I'm sorry Eugene, I'm in a pisser of a mood right now and I don't mean to take it out on you but…"  
  
"I'm handy?" Eugene volunteered.  
  
"Right." Bobby nodded "Maybe I can walk it off, I really think I need to be alone right now."  
  
Eugene understood "Don't go too far Bobby, you never know there might be news."  
  
He was already at the door, reaching for his coat. "I wont, but I've got my phone on me if anything comes up."  
  
* * *  
  
He'd been waiting forever for her to wake up.   
  
He'd turned the lights on at 7.00 a.m. to start the day, that had been hours ago. Impatient he rose and walked over to where the windows would be if he hadn't covered them and stared at the wall. Maybe he should hang something on them, the thought crossed his mind and was just as quickly discarded. He'd made the room as cheerful as he could, he wouldn't be here long enough for him to need to go to any more trouble. And it's not like Lindsay was awake to appreciate his efforts anyway.  
  
Maybe he should shake her, that would rouse her. Then he could introduce himself and outline her situation. He couldn't wait to see her reaction. He turned and took a step towards her but stopped when his mobile phone started ringing, hopefully this was the call he'd be expecting and not some annoying tele-marketer like his last call. Those people just couldn't take a hint, how many different ways were there to say not interested. It was simply frustrating. Deciding the call was more important that waking Lindsay he stepped out of the room, pressing the answer button as he did.   
  
"Hello?"  
  
"They got it." The voice on the other end was gravelly, a victim of too many cigarettes and too much alcohol.   
  
"Are you certain?"  
  
"I watched them step out of the church and open it, myself. Then they jumped in their car and took off."  
  
"Thank you, you've done well." He'd spent a lot of time trying to decide if he should involve someone else in his scheme. He'd always avoided using accomplices before, but the stakes were so much higher now and the extra man power was needed. He could hardly be in two places at once and he really did think that Lindsay would awaken before this. Besides it was much too dangerous for him to be seen in public just yet.   
  
"Do you need me to do anything else? I could follow them for you."   
  
"No." No doubt his contact was looking for more money, he probably had another bottle of bourbon to buy. Oh well at least drunks served their purpose, he'd make a lousy witness if he was ever asked to testify. Not that that would happen. "I'll be in contact with you if I need you again."  
  
"You know where I am?"  
  
"I'll find you." Bored with the conversation now, he disconnected the phone. So Mulder had arrived and he'd gotten the note. He was moving faster than Edmund had expected. Certainly faster than last time. The thought pleased him, anticipation flowed through his veins.   
  
The game was afoot.  
  
With a satisfied smile he walked down the stairs to wait for Lindsay to wake up.  
  
* * *  
  
"We have one week." Mulder sat down at the conference table again and passed the note across to Adam. It was sealed in a plastic evidence bag and they were waiting for the results of the fingerprint analysis. Not that Mulder needed it.  
  
Adam's eyebrows rose "Counting today?"  
  
"I'd say so. Did the missing persons turn up anything?"  
  
Adam nodded to Doug to answer, he'd been the one to find it after all. "I talked to a Detective Mike McGuire. He has someone who fits your description." He flicked through his notebook "Brown hair, early thirties, green eyes. Her husband reported her missing. It looks like she was taken out of her house, there were signs of a struggle. The abductor left their infant son in the nursery unharmed."  
  
Mulder frowned. "We should be looking for a homeless woman, or someone with no family. Was there anyone else?"  
  
Adam shook his head. "She was the only one who even remotely fit the description of the photo you have. We were just about to fax through a copy of it when you walked through the door."  
  
"No don't worry about that, we'll go over and see him personally. If she is the one we'll want the files anyway." He jotted down the information Doug had collected. "In the mean time could you guys check with the lab and let us know if they get anything on the note. I doubt it but it's worth a try." He gathered up all his papers. "I'll call you if this is the woman and if so Scully and I will probably be in the field all day. But if another note comes here we'll need you to contact us."   
  
They waited for Adam's consent before leaving.  
  
"Is this how it's going to be?" Doug asked as soon as Mulder and Scully left the room. "They get to do all the field work, while we call police stations and check with labs?"  
  
"It's their case Doug."  
  
"Well if it's their case then they can check the lab. I'm not their gopher."  
  
Adam's temper was fraying. "No you're an F.B.I. Agent and you're helping investigate a case involving a serial kidnapper and possible murderer. You heard Mulder, we've got one week to crack this and if your only contribution is doing the ground work and if it means we can save this woman," He held the photo in front of Doug "Then that's what you'll do. It's time to lose the attitude Doug, it's not going to get you anywhere and quite frankly I'm tired of it. Now do as the man asked and check with the lab." Dropping the photo back on the desk he walked out of the room.  
  
Doug looked after him, stunned. He'd never in all his time working with Adam seen him lose his temper. Maybe it was time to tread a little more quietly. With a sigh he settled at the table and picked up the phone. "Connie, it's Doug, how are you coming with that note?"  
  
* * *  
  
It took some time to track down Detective McGuire in the maze that was the police station. They finally reached the right area only to be informed that he was in interrogation. For a moment Mulder considered pulling rank, but just as quickly dismissed the idea. For one it really wasn't his style to do so and for another he didn't want to risk putting the local police off side so quickly. He had enough to worry about in that area with the F.B.I. field office. He didn't want to burn his bridges from both ends.   
  
With a rather hefty sigh, he settled down next to Scully on the hard wooden bench usually reserved for criminals and resigned himself to waiting.   
  
Fortunately he didn't have to wait long.   
  
Mike was carrying a manila folder as he approached. It contained everything he'd managed to collect on Lindsay's abduction. He'd been reading through it when they'd called to say they were on their way.   
  
It was full of dead ends, their call had him hoping he could open some of them.  
  
"Agents Mulder and Scully?" When they nodded and stood he held out his hand and shook both of theirs. "Mike McGuire. Why don't we go in here?"  
  
He opened a door to the closest interrogation room and stuck his head inside to make sure it was empty. Satisfied he stepped back to allow them to enter ahead of him. "Sorry about the wait," He said as he took a seat. "I had a break on one of my other cases I couldn't put it off."  
  
"It's no problem," Scully responded "We appreciate your time"  
  
"Maybe you could tell me what this is about?"  
  
Scully took the file containing their documentation out of her briefcase and set it on the table opposite the one Mike had. "You entered a missing person's report yesterday evening? A female, early thirties, brown hair." She flicked through the paperwork Doug had given her until she found what she was looking for. "Lindsay Dole?"  
  
"That's right"  
  
She pulled out the email that had been sent to Mulder "Is this her?"  
  
Mike stared at the photo of an obviously unconscious Lindsay before dragging his eyes back to theirs. "Yes."  
  
"You're certain?"  
  
"Yes." He tapped his fingers on the desk thoughtfully "Where did you get this?"  
  
"It was e-mailed to me early this morning." It was the first time Mulder had spoken, he'd let Scully take the lead so he could watch and evaluate the Detective. His first instinct lead too McGuire being a straightforward and dedicated cop. "Do you know this man?"  
  
Mulder nodded for Scully to pull out the mug shot. Waited while Mike studied it. "No, who is he?"  
  
"He's the man we believe is responsible." As quickly as possible he outlined his history with Edmund.  
  
"So he's going to give us a deadline?"  
  
Mulder turned to Scully again, but she already had the copy of the note on the table. "We picked this up from the Old North Church this morning." She watched as Mike read it, heard the whistle of air escape through his teeth.   
  
"Seven days isn't very long."  
  
"Six and a half now." Mulder replied.  
  
Mike nodded. "So what's the next step?"  
  
"Well first," Mulder grouped all the paper up and piled it to one side. "We'd like to have a look at that file you've got and hear any information you could tell us that would be helpful. And then Scully and I should pay a visit to the husband."  
  
"I'll go with you."  
  
Local law enforcement never wanted to hand over a case, when the Fed's stepped in. Mulder understood that and because he did, he was already prepared for the fight. "Look Detective, I understand this was your case but…"  
  
"No," Mike interrupted "You don't understand. I know her." He pointed to the pile of paper Mulder had moved. "I know her husband, I know her friends. I have a vested interest in wanting her found, not only that but…." He leaned forward to make his point. "I can be of help here. Don't shut me out."   
  
He watched Mulder steadily, not breaking eye contact and waited for his answer. "Okay." It wasn't until he heard it that he realised he'd been holding his breath.  
  
* * *  
  
He was going sir crazy.   
  
Even his walk hadn't helped as he'd hoped it would. At the moment Eugene, who seemed to have taken up permanent residence in his house and Rebecca who hadn't been able to stay away any longer, were doing their best to give him the space he'd quite vocally asked for. They were sitting in the dining room playing cards but every five seconds or so, one of them would turn their heads to see what he was doing.   
  
He wasn't doing anything.  
  
Perhaps that's what had them so worried. He'd been sitting in the same position on the single seater sofa, as far away from them as he could get, since he'd made his little outburst. That had been over half an hour ago. Since then they'd done everything they could to adhere to his wishes. Everything that was except leave. Probably because they knew deep down he didn't want them to, that he was afraid to be alone. Maybe now that Rebecca was here, she might cook something he thought, because if he ever had to sit through another meal that Eugene prepared, well things could get nasty. He just wished they'd stop looking at him.  
  
When the doorbell rang he nearly jumped out of his skin. His legs, stiff from not moving, fought him as he rose. Eugene was already pulling the door open. "Mike." He greeted as he stood back.  
  
But Mike wasn't alone. Bobby stood rooted to the spot as two strangers entered behind him. Mike nodded to both Eugene and Rebecca before walking to stand in front of him, the strangers followed suit. "Bobby." Mike said, "This is Agents Mulder and Scully with the FBI."  
  
An icy fist closed around his heart as he immediately thought the worst. "Lindsay?" The word came out no more than a croak through the knot in this throat.  
  
"They have some information about the man who took Lindsay, they want to ask you some questions." Mike said softly.  
  
His legs felt like jelly so he sank back down onto the couch. "Alright."  
  
"You know who took Lindsay?" Eugene asked.  
  
Scully raised her eyebrow and looked at him questioningly. "Sorry," Mike said, "This is Eugene Young and Rebecca Washington."  
  
"You work at the law firm?" Scully questioned. She'd read about them in the information Mike had given them.  
  
"Yes. Who has Lindsay?" Eugene was anxious. If the F.B.I was involved it couldn't be good.  
  
"Do any of you know Edmund Harrison?" Mulder looked at all of them in turn. He handed the mug shot around, first to Bobby, then to Eugene and Rebecca.   
  
"I don't." Rebecca answered. Eugene shook his head. Mulder turned to Bobby "Mr Donnell?"  
  
"No." His voice still had that hoarse sound to it. "Who is he?"  
  
Mulder sat down on the chair opposite Bobby so that they were eye level. "He's the man who took your wife."  
  
"How do you know?" Eugene asked.  
  
Mulder kept his eyes trained on Bobby. The man wasn't holding up well, but then who expected him too. They'd discussed with Mike whether to show Bobby the picture they'd been sent, Mike was in favour of it. He'd said Bobby would need to see it and out of the three of them he knew him best. He reached into the folder and pulled out the photo. "This was sent to me this morning."   
  
As Bobby reached for the paper, Mulder watched the blood drain from his face as he looked at it. "Oh my God is she…?"   
  
"No" Scully said quickly. "She's unconscious. She's still alive."  
  
Eugene walked over to stand behind Bobby's chair. Bobby was holding onto the sides of the e-mail with such a desperate grip, extracting it from him would be impossible. His eyes were glued to it taking in every detail. "How do you know?" Eugene asked.  
  
For the fourth time that day Mulder outlined his past with Edmund. He tempered the story this time, there was certain information a grieving husband didn't need to know. He finished with the note they'd found that morning.  
  
Bobby's eyes never left the picture as Mulder spoke, but he had listened. He'd heard every word, some of which hadn't been spoken. "He's going to kill her isn't he?" It took supreme effort to drag his gaze up, away from the image of Lindsay but he did. "If you don't find her in time he's going to kill her?"  
  
Sometimes holding back information did more harm than good. "I believe so."   
  
"Then you have to find her." Imploring eyes met Mulder's, then transferred to Scully's.  
  
"Mr Donnell, we're going to do everything in our power to find her, you have our word." Scully responded.   
  
"You mentioned to Detective McGuire that Lindsay thought someone was following her?" Mulder asked.   
  
"Yes." His eyes were drawn back to the picture he held, it was his only tangible link to her at the moment. "She said she had a feeling, but she brushed it off."  
  
"When was that?"  
  
"The day before yesterday. She mentioned it when she came into the office in the afternoon."  
  
"What had she been doing before that?"  
  
"Shopping." He thought of the brightly coloured boxer shorts she'd brought him and how he'd laughed when he'd opened them. Had that only been two days ago? God. "She went shopping with Rob. Our son." He said for Mulder and Scully's benefit.  
  
Mulder nodded. He already knew they had a child, but he didn't see any need to point that out. "Did she mention anything specifically, did she have contact with anyone?"  
  
"No." Bobby shook his head. "She said it was just a feeling, a sensation. She told me not to worry about it." A single tear escaped, it travelled down his cheek unnoticed. "I should have paid more attention."  
  
Mulder leant forward in his chair. "Mr Donnell I know this is hard." Bobby's head snapped up and anger sprang into his eyes. He was sick of people saying that too him, how could they know. But when he looked at Mulder he saw something. Recognition. And he knew that Mulder really did understand.  
  
When Scully's phone rang everyone jumped. She rose quickly and with a quiet apology walked to the other side of the room before answering.   
  
"Scully."  
  
"Agent Scully, it's Agent Griffin. The lab's run all the tests on the note, there isn't much they can tell us. Basically the paper used can be bought at just about any stationers and there were no fingerprints. The ink was fresh and was written within the last 24 hours."   
  
She'd expected all of that. "Okay thanks."  
  
"Do you want us to put it in for handwriting analysis?"   
  
Even though he couldn't see her she shook her head. "No." She kept her voice low so nobody could hear her. "We know who's responsible, handwriting wont help us."  
  
"Well maybe when another note arrives, it might give us more clues."  
  
She didn't think so, but one thing this job had taught her was that anything was possible. "Maybe. Thanks for he call Agent Griffin." She disconnected and gave Mulder a subtle signal.   
  
He gave her a small nod, he'd known her too long not to pick up on what she was silently saying. Quietly he rose, there wasn't anything else he could accomplish here at the moment. He held out a card to Eugene, Bobby was back to gripping the picture. "We're going to be in touch, but in the mean time if you need us for anything you can get me on this number." He looked down at Bobby again. "Any time, it doesn't matter how late."  
  
"Thanks" Eugene said.   
  
Mulder nodded and walked over to where Scully and Mike were standing by the now open door. He waited until they passed through it and then with one look back at Bobby and the despair he could so clearly read on his face, he turned and let himself out.  
  
* * *  
  
Finally.  
  
It was ridiculous, the amount of time it had taken her to wake up. Surely she hadn't ingested that much of the drug. From his position on the sofa he heard her murmur and watched as her eyelids fluttered, once, twice, three times before opening. Her eyes darted around the room in confusion, before settling on him. He read the fear as soon as it ran through her and it delighted him.  
  
"It's about time." The words were said pleasantly enough, he stayed where he was.  
  
She vaguely remembered waking up once earlier and wondered how long ago that was. "Where am I?"  
  
"You're a guest in my home Lindsay. You don't mind if I call you Lindsay do you? It'll be so much more pleasant if we can be friends."  
  
A chill ran down her spine and she tried to free herself from her bindings as unobtrusively as she could. "Who are you?"  
  
"Hmm, what an interesting question, I've been so many people you see." He ran a finger idly along the arm of the chair. "And I don't usually like to give away my true identity." He'd made that mistake with Karen hadn't he and the bitch had used it against him. Another one of his mistakes, one he'd swore to himself he wouldn't make again. Then he sighed and felt his resolve slipping, the truth of the matter was he wanted to tell her. He very much wanted her to know who held her fate in their hands. It appeared some mistakes bore repeating.  
  
"My mother called me Edmund." He said. "And since we're going to be friends that's what you can call me Lindsay. You know you wont break those," He'd seen her try and manoeuvre the ropes, of course he'd seen it, did she take him for a fool? "I was a boy scout you know, I'm very good at tying knots"  
  
She gave up trying, because she'd already realised there was no use. "Why are you doing this?"  
  
"My, my, you're just full of questions aren't you?" He gave a small laugh, it had a slightly feminine sound to it. "I can see we're going to have just wonderful conversations. Why?" For the first time since she'd woken up he moved. But it was only to lean forward. "Does the answer to that question really matter?" He could see that it did. "Alright then, because I can. It's a cliché I know, but it's the truth, I'm doing this because I can."  
  
She felt like crying and because she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of it she fought the feeling. "My son?"  
  
Edmund waved his hand dismissively. "I didn't hurt the boy, I'm not interested in him."  
  
Relief surged through her, momentarily distracting her from the fear. Rob was alright. "Thank you."  
  
He was regarding her quietly. He knew she was scared, he could tell that easily, but she didn't cry and she didn't beg. She was a lot stronger than he'd thought she'd be. She had spirit. The thought cheered him even more, it would be so much fun to break her and he would he had no doubt of that. He thought he might even be upset when he was forced to kill her at the conclusion of the game.  
  
No that that would prevent him from doing so.   
  
With one final considering stare, he rose and felt for the latch of the door. "I imagine you're hungry after your nap. I'll be back."   
  
And he went off to prepare her dinner.  
  
* * *  
  
The bar was dimly lit. It smelt of old cooking oil and stale beer.   
  
Scully wrinkled her nose. "You always pick the nicest places Mulder."  
  
He smiled at her, one of those full wattage smiles that showed he was really amused and moved around to the other side of the table. "Detective McGuire recommended it, he said they served a great steak here."  
  
She looked around unconvinced "Uh-huh."  
  
"Come on Scully when have I ever steered you wrong?"  
  
Her eyebrows shot up and she was rewarded with another smile. "I have no comment on that."  
  
"It's hard to comment on what hasn't happened yet."  
  
"Whatever you say Mulder."  
  
They were interrupted by the waitress. "What'll you have?"  
  
He looked over at Scully silently asking the question, she nodded. "We'll have two of your biggest steaks." He figured he could always eat the rest of Scully's if she couldn't finish it.  
  
"Drinks?" He still wanted to go through the files again when he got back to the hotel, just in case he'd missed anything. He thought it would be best to be clearheaded. "Just some cokes thanks. Diet."   
  
The waitress nodded and shuffled off.  
  
"So," He turned back to Scully "What's your take on our colleagues in the field office?"  
  
She smiled, Mulder always wanted to talk work, which she supposed was understandable. His work was his life. "Agent Griffin seems a bit resentful. Not exactly welcoming but he does good work." When Mulder nodded she continued "Agent Miller seems eager to help and since he's in charge I don't think we'll have any problems."  
  
"Yeah." But Mulder was still going to keep an eye on Griffin. "What about Detective McGuire?"  
  
"Dedicated." Because it was the same conclusion Mulder had come to himself he merely nodded. "I think he's sincere about wanting to help. A friend of his has been taken, it wouldn't sit well with him until he's done everything he could to find her. Even if it requires accepting our help."  
  
"Wow Scully I'm impressed. You ever thought about becoming a profiler?"  
  
"And leave the X Files?" She popped a peanut into her mouth. "You'd be lost without me Mulder."  
  
"No argument here." He sat back as the waitress deposited their drinks in front of them. "Thanks."   
  
Scully waited until she left, before leaning forward. "So what do you think our chances are of finding her?"  
  
He'd been asking himself the same question. "I don't know I guess it'll depend on what sort of clues he leaves us. I think Detective McGuire can help us" He didn't like to admit it, because he didn't like to work with other people, except Scully. He had issues with trust.   
  
"It worries you that he's changed M.O." He didn't bother to question how well she could read him.  
  
"It does. He's smart. The fact that this time he's taken someone with friends, family, if he's changed that what else will he change?"  
  
"You think he might kill her before the deadline?"  
  
"I've considered it."  
  
"Well then," She reached for her drink, took a sip "We'll have to catch him quicker"  
  
"Yeah." But he didn't know how they'd go about doing that.  
  
* * *  
  
  



	7. Friday

FRIDAY  
  
A new day was about to dawn and he had a lot to do. Not content to waste a minute of time he rose at 5.30. His first stop was to check the monitor connected to the video camera in the basement. He could hardly spend every moment with Lindsay, as preferable as he might find that option but that didn't mean he couldn't keep tabs on her around the clock. He had three camera's in all, situated around the room, the devices were well hidden, he doubted she'd ever know they were there.  
  
Satisfied that she was still sleeping, albeit somewhat uncomfortably from the looks of it, he fixed himself some breakfast and settled in front of the computer. Now that he had all the players involved in his little challenge it was time to send the first clue. He'd been pondering the situation last night, how best to word the clues and the easiest method of distributing them to Agent Mulder. Part of him yearned for the satisfaction of hiding them himself and watching Mulder run all over the city to find them, but the longer he took to locate each one the less time he had to search for Lindsay and that was what Edmund was really interested in watching happen.  
  
The clues were just a means to an end.   
  
He couldn't post it, that would take to long, it needed to arrive this morning. If he used a courier there would be a paper trail that could lead back to him, so it appeared at the moment his only real course of action was to have his contact send it directly to the FBI At least then when Edmund won, they couldn't say he hadn't given them every possible advantage. It would make victory that much sweeter.   
  
With gloved hands he inserted the paper into the printer, it was the most common brand he cold find, available at any stationary store and totally untraceable. The printer hummed as the words formed on the paper, when it was finished, he scanned it quickly and still satisfied that it wasn't giving away to much to quickly he sealed it in the envelope. Checking the security monitor one more time he let himself out of the house.  
  
* * *  
  
Helen prowled the apartment unable to sleep. It was early yet and still dark outside, but she knew within the hour the sun would rise and so would most people, ready to start the new day.  
  
And Lindsay would still be missing.  
  
She knew of the FBI's involvement in the case. She'd spoken to Mike yesterday and he'd brought her up to speed on what was happening. One part of her was happy that they were here, that there were more people focussed on finding Lindsay. The other part was truly terrified at the information they'd brought with them. If this Edmund Harrison was as bad as they said and she saw no reason to doubt them on that fact, well the thought of it chilled her to the bone.   
  
Hearing Rob stir she wandered into the nursery he was sharing with Zoey and over to the port-a-cot that was his makeshift bed. He would be used to his mother fetching him first thing in the morning, Helen knew that Lindsay cherished that time with Rob, when he'd just woken up and liked nothing more than cuddling against her until he was fully awake. His small hand was fisted against the side of the cot, trying for leverage to roll himself over beneath the blanket he slept under. Quietly, so not to disturb Zoey, she freed him of his restraint and lifted him up.  
  
"Hey little guy." she murmured as she walked out into the living room. She settled onto the couch, cradling him. He made a small sound of discontentment. "You miss your Mom, don't you?"  
  
She didn't expect him to answer, she just felt the need to keep talking, as if somehow talking about Lindsay would bring her closer to both of them.  
  
"Everybody's looking for her Rob, lots of people want to find her. And we're going to find her." We have to she told herself, as she thought of the deadline. Missing it wasn't going to be an option. "Everybody loves Lindsay and that much love has to win through in the end, so I don't want you to worry."  
  
As if in answer to her he moved restlessly again and she tightened her hold. "Lots of people are looking out for you and your Dad too, everything's going to be okay." She so desperately wanted to believe that, needed too. But the shadows of doubt that plagued her wouldn't go away. Even with all the manpower at their disposal, the various law enforcement teams, the D.A.'s office, they were at such a disadvantage. And seven days was both such a short amount of time and forever.   
  
She felt the first tear slide down her cheek, the second not far behind. The rest fell to quickly to be counted. And as the sun's first rays of light shone through the living room window, she held Lindsay's child in her arms and cried.  
  
* * *  
  
"I have another job for you Martin." It was tedious to have to come to his contact rather than the other way around, but really there wasn't any other option. And when the person you chose was a homeless drunk, picking up the telephone and making a call didn't really factor into the equation either.  
  
"Sure." Martin licked his lips, his mind already more on the money he was about to receive than the job at hand.  
  
As if sensing this Edmund glared "I need you to pay attention, this is very important."  
  
"Okay." He licked his lips again and forced himself to concentrate.  
  
Still wearing his gloves, Edmund pulled out the envelope. "I need to get this letter to the FBI, but doing so myself poses some problems so I want you to deliver it for me. No so fast." He said as Martin reached for it. He pulled out another set of gloves. "I want you to wear these, do not under any circumstances touch the envelope without wearing the gloves do you understand?"  
  
When Martin nodded, Edmund waited until he struggled into the gloves before handing over the letter. "Take the bus, there's one that leaves from the other side of the road in half an hour. I've written you directions for where to get off and where to go after that." Martin reached for the other piece of paper, but Ed held onto it "Look at me Martin." He waited until he had the older man's undivided attention.   
  
"Under no circumstances are you to enter the building, leave the envelope at the front door and walk away. Is that understood?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Alright, repeat back to me what I just told you."  
  
"I need to follow your directions to the FBI field office and wearing gloves the whole time, leave this note by the front door and then go."  
  
"Very good and I want you to wear these." He handed him the coat and glasses he'd brought along, there hadn't been time for a more elaborate disguise. "There will possibly be surveillance in front of the building, just in case I don't want you to take any chances. Look down the entire time and walk, don't run away as soon as the notes delivered."  
  
"I've got it."  
  
"Good." Edmund handed over the directions and a twenty dollar bill. "Do this job well Martin and there'll be more where that came from."  
  
"You can count on me."  
  
An evil look came into Edmunds eyes that the dusky lighting couldn't mask. "I should hope so. For your sake. If all goes well, I'll be in contact with you this afternoon."  
  
  
* * *  
  
"You're kidding me."  
  
"It's the truth Scully, I swear."  
  
She let out a snort of laughter. "Mulder you've asked me to believe some pretty outrageous stuff before, but that's ridiculous even for you."  
  
"Ouch. You wound me Scully" But the quirk of his lips, belayed his words. "Okay so maybe I was exaggerating a little."   
  
She swallowed another mouthful of eggs. "Or a lot."  
  
His phone ringing robbed him of the comeback he had ready. "Mulder." He answered. His eyes turned serious as he listened. "We'll be right there."   
  
"What?" Scully asked as he disconnected.   
  
"That was Agent Miller, an envelope addressed to me was left at the front door of the field office." He scanned her half eaten plate. "Nearly finished?"  
  
She sighed, she'd actually managed to get halfway through a meal without Mulder hauling her off somewhere else, that might be a new record. "Sure."  
  
He took out some money and threw it on the table. "Lets go."  
  
* * *  
  
"Have you opened it?" Mulder asked as he walked through the door to the field office, Scully right behind him.  
  
"Not yet, we were waiting for you." Adam led the way into the conference room. Doug was already sitting in there, the envelope was in an evidence bag on the table in front of him.  
  
"Here." Adam held out a pair of latex gloves, Mulder put them on and reached for the bag. He opened it ane withdrew the envelope, his name was printed on the outside, the computer font neat and even. Carefully he opened the envelope and unfolded the sheet of paper, a photograph was paper clipped to the top of it. He carefully removed it and focused on the note.  
  
"What does it say?" Scully asked moving up beside him.  
  
"As I sit and wait, the clock hand turns  
You'll find me near where the grad student learns.  
An institution located on the Charles River, or near,  
Borders a suburb, you'll find me here."  
  
"Cute." Doug said, as Mulder finished reading. "The guy knows how to rhyme, you have to give him points for that."  
  
Scully shot him a glare before turning back to Mulder "That's it?"  
  
"And this photo." He brought it to the forefront now and studied it. It was an upper body and head shot, Lindsay was again unconscious her hair slightly matted where it rested against the pillow. From the position of her shoulders and upper arms it looked as if her wrists were bound together behind her. He placed it on the table so the others could see.  
  
"It doesn't look like she's been harmed." Adam commented as he peered at the picture.  
  
"That we can tell," Scully responded. "All we can really see is her face, she could be hurt anywhere." She gestured to the photo "She could also be drugged, who knows what he could be giving her."  
  
Mulder sat down at the table and pulled one of the blank notepads towards him, Doug looked over as he started writing. "What are you doing?"  
  
"I'm making a copy of the note, the original has to go down to that lab." He finished writing then looked at Adam "Will anyone else be using this room for the next couple of days?"   
  
"No. We have other conference rooms, you can use this one while you're here."  
  
"Thanks." He pulled off the gloves and placed them on the table. "I want to set this up as a briefing room." He walked over to the boards that lined the side wall and pinned up the copy of the note he'd just written down. "I want all the evidence up here, including the first email and picture. Divide it up into seven sections if you can, one for each of the days. Things are always easier to work through when they're visual."  
  
He pointed to the latest photo and note that Scully was placing in evidence bags. "Those will need to go to the lab, check for finger prints on both, I don't think you'll get anything on the type of paper he wouldn't make that mistake twice but you should have them test it anyway. I want the lab guys to blow up that photo and to look for anything out of the ordinary, on her or in the background. It doesn't matter how insignificant, it could end up being the clue that breaks the case. Then I want them both copied and pinned up here under a heading of day two."  
  
Adam nodded at Doug who grudgingly picked up the evidence bags and resigned himself to his role of courier as he headed for the lab. "I'd also like a computer brought in here, we're going to have to communicate a lot with Washington on this, they have all the original files from the first case. Plus we may need some assistance from the behavioural sciences guys there, it'd be easier if we could do everything from the one place."  
  
"I'll make the arrangements."  
  
"Thanks." Mulder watched as Adam too left the room, before sitting down opposite Scully.   
  
"Is this how it was last time Mulder? With the clue and the photograph?"  
  
"Yeah. It's exactly like it was, clues that point you in a direction but are still ambiguous enough not to really tell you anything." He sighed. "We're going to have to break everything down Scully. We'll have to wait on the lab report on the photo, but we can start with the note…." He broke off as Adam walked into the room carrying a video tape.  
  
"The computer will be set up soon. I've got a copy of this mornings surveillance tape, it should have captured the letter being dropped off." He popped the tape into the video and turned on the attached television. "The camera's record 24 hours a day and are changed by security every six hours. Judging by the condition of the envelope when we found it, it couldn't have been there for more than an hour or so." He pressed play, the picture of the front entrance was black and white and not all that clear. The time display on the bottom, left corner of the screen showed 3.45 a.m.   
  
Adam set the tape to fast forward as he sat beside Mulder. "It'd be quicker to fast forward off the screen but we might miss something."   
  
"No this is fine." Mulder watched the screen intently, the only change was the numbers marking time. "There stop." He sat up straighter as the figure appeared on the screen. By the time Adam hit the play button he'd already gone. The tape was rewound and played at normal speed.  
  
"6.45." Mulder watched, his gaze intent, he saw the stocky man in the thick coat and brimmed hat, walk towards the door, bend, place the letter and hustle away.   
  
"He didn't hang around." Allan murmured.  
  
"24 seconds." Scully said, watching the time counter on the video.  
  
"Yeah, he knew what he was doing." Mulder took the remote control from Adam and rewound the tape again. "Have a look at the way he keeps looking down, those cameras outside are well hidden, he probably doesn't even know where they are, but he's making sure they don't spot him." He took in the bulkiness of the coat, the wide brim of the hat. "And look at the clothes, he doesn't want to give anything away."  
  
"Well you said he was smart."  
  
Mulder pushed pause and turned to Adam. "That's not Edmund. His body shapes all wrong and he's at least six inches shorter." He put the remote down with more force than was necessary "He's using an accomplice."  
  
"Does that break pattern?"  
  
"Yeah." His hands now free he ran them through his hair. "There was never any evidence of an accomplice before. It's going to be hard enough trying to keep up with him as it is, but if he keep changing the rules, well…." He glanced over at Scully communicating his worry silently.  
  
"We'll find her Mulder. We just have to work things through. We should work on the note."  
  
He nodded in agreement and rose to walk over to the board. Focussing on the page he'd pinned there he read it through in his mind a few more times. "He's obviously referring to a University." He turned back around and asked Adam. "How many are there in Boston?"  
  
"Ah, a fair few."  
  
"I think he'd stick to the major ones. He wouldn't want to give us too big a list because it would take our focus away for too long. He wants to keep us busy, but not so busy we forget the big picture."  
  
"Okay." Adam took out a pen and started making a list. "Well there's Boston University, obviously. Harvard, MIT, Suffolk…."  
  
"Don't forget North Eastern." Doug said as he wandered back into the room. He'd gotten his degree in Justice Studies at North Eastern, he was very proud of that.  
  
"Which of those are near the Charles River?" Scully asked.  
  
"All of them. Well North Eastern's a little further away than the others, it's still fairly close but the other four are all right near it." He flipped over the page in the notebook and drew a rudimentary map. "The river's here," He said drawing two lines across the page. "Harvard and MIT are here and here," Marking two x's just above the top line he continued "If you want to be technical they're actually in Cambridge and then you've got BU and Suffolk here and here," He marked another two x's below the bottom line and wrote Boston in between them. Moving his hand left he marked another x slightly further away. "North Eastern's somewhere over here."   
  
"Okay well lets rule out North Eastern for the moment, I think he'll stay closer to the city."  
  
"It would have been kind of handy if he'd mentioned what side of the river he was referring too."  
  
Scully looked up from the file she'd been reading to shoot Doug her second annoyed look of the morning. It was one she'd practiced and refined on Mulder. Sensing trouble Adam cleared his throat. "What if he's just trying to lead us astray. Didn't you say he'd done that before?"  
  
"I don't think he would this early into his game. He'd want to set us down the path first, he'll want to give us a good start, because then he'll find it more entertaining if we flounder in the middle or the end. It would appeal to his sense of supremacy."  
  
"Lindsay Dole went to Harvard." Scully looked up again from the file she was reading, the one she'd gotten of Detective McGuire the day before.   
  
"What?" Mulder asked.  
  
"It says here that she graduated fifth in her class from Harvard Law School, it could be a link." She flipped through a couple of pages. "Robert Donnell attended both Boston University and Suffolk." She shrugged "It could be an angle, considering he went to the trouble of mentioning a university in the first place."  
  
Mulder nodded. "We'll have to check it out." He wasn't going to leave any potential lead uninvestigated. He couldn't afford too.  
  
"The clue doesn't actually say he's in a university though," Doug pointed out, reading it again. "It says he's in a bordering suburb TO a university.   
  
"That's too big an area." Mulder responded. "Especially if we don't know what school he's talking about to start with. I think our only option at the moment is to canvas the campuses and see if we turn up something."  
  
"You think he might have left another clue there, like he did yesterday at the church?" Adam asked.  
  
"It's worth a try. I want every inch of ground covered, if he has left us another clue, chances are it wont be as easy to locate as the last one. Scully and I'll take Harvard, Agent Griffin you take MIT, Agent Miller can you do Boston University?"  
  
"Sure." Adam answered. "But who's going to take Suffolk?"  
  
"I'll contact Detective McGuire and bring him up-to-date, I promised him he could be involved in the investigation. Say we meet back here at 3 p.m.?" Both Doug and Adam nodded. "You both have my phone number so if you find anything call me and we'll be right there."  
  
Mulder watched them leave the room before turning back to Scully, she was still reading the file. He left her to it as he punched Detective McGuire's number into his phone.  
  
Mike picked up on the second ring. "McGuire."  
  
"Detective, it's Agent Mulder."  
  
"Yes?" Mike's heart thudded in his chest, anticipating bad news.  
  
"We've had a few developments…" As quickly as possible Mulder outlined the mornings events. "We've decided to canvas the four universities, would you be able to take Suffolk?"  
  
"Sure." Mike had been writing down all the information, now he paused. "Who's going to Harvard?"  
  
"We are. Why?"  
  
"Lindsay went there, is it possible there could be a connection?"  
  
"We know, it was listed in your report. I don't think so, it's Edmunds usual M.O. to choose someone at random." But he couldn't ignore the fact that as each moment passed by past events were having less and less to do with present ones. "It's an angle we're going to check out though."  
  
"In that case you may want to talk to Helen Gamble."  
  
Mulder frowned he'd heard that name somewhere but he couldn't pin point where. "Who?"  
  
"Helen Gamble, she's the D.A. assigned to the case." Ah, Mulder thought, that cleared that up.   
  
"Okay, why?"  
  
"She's also Lindsay's best friend, they were roommates at college. She may be able to help you, at least give you a run down of the place, just in case there is a link."  
  
"We'll do that." Mulder jotted down Helen's number as Mike rattled it off. "Thanks for your help Detective, we're planning on meeting back at the field office at 3 p.m. Can you meet us then?"  
  
"No problem."   
  
"Thanks." Mulder hung up and turned to Scully. She'd closed the file and had been listening to his conversation. "Ready to go?" He asked.  
  
She nodded and stood up "So what's the plan?"  
  
"We'll head out to the campus and have a look around. But first we have to stop by the D.A.'s office."  
  
Scully tilted her head to the side "Why?"  
  
He held the door open for her. "I'll tell you on the way."  
  
* * *  
  
"Bobby!" All heads swivelled towards the door at Lucy's surprised exclamation.   
  
"What?" He asked as he walked through the door, Eugene two steps behind him.  
  
"What are you doing here?"  
  
"I work here, remember Lucy. My office is directly behind you." His tone was less than friendly.  
  
"Yeah, but…"  
  
"I think what she's trying to say is that we didn't expect you in today." Rebecca said, rising from behind her desk. She shot Eugene a questioning look that he answered with a shrug.  
  
"I have work." Bobby answered.  
  
"We're covering that. You should go home Bobby."  
  
"And do what?" He snapped. "Sit and wait?" He took a deep breath and though it cost him, forced his voice into a quieter tone. "I can't do anything for her there Rebecca. I can't do anything for her here either, but at least I can concentrate on something else."  
  
"Is there any news Bobby?" Jimmy asked.  
  
"No. There's been no news. Excuse me." He shouldered past them and shut himself in his office.  
  
Rebecca looked over at Eugene. "You shouldn't have brought him in here Eugene, it's too soon"   
  
"What would you have had me do Rebecca, lock him in the apartment?" He wasn't sure this was the best option for Bobby either, but he also didn't think it was the worst one. "He was going crazy there, maybe this will help him, he has to get through this the best he can, we all do."  
  
"The press have been calling non-stop, Lucy's been holding them off, but I don't think they'll go away."  
  
A tension headache set itself up firmly behind Eugene's eyes. "Just don't make any comments, if anything's going to be released to the press it should come from the police."  
  
"What should we do about Bobby?"  
  
Contemplating Jimmy's question Eugene looked over to Bobby's office, the blinds were already closed. "Just give him a little space, he'll come out when he's ready."  
  
* * *  
  
Helen looked at the two people sitting opposite her. The people she was trusting to bring Lindsay back safely. She hoped they were up to the task. Her fingers intertwined in front of her, elbows resting on the desk, she leaned forward. "You're checking out the universities?"  
  
Scully nodded. "We've had some information that leads us to believe he may be hiding somewhere in the vicinity of one of them."  
  
"But you don't know which one?"  
  
"Not yet."  
  
"Boston has a lot of them."  
  
"We know." Mulder said, "That's one of the reasons we're here. We understand you went to Harvard with Ms Dole." When Helen nodded he continued. "We're on our way out there now, is there anything you can tell us before we go?"  
  
Helen frowned. "Like what?"  
  
Mulder pulled out the photo of Edmund. "This is the man we believe has taken Lindsay. He likes to play games, get in the minds of his victims and then leave a trail of clues behind. If this is the case, he may well use something that's familiar to her. An old dorm room, a favourite spot, anything at all."  
  
"We roomed at Hastings Hall. We were on the second floor, the whole time until our final semester then we moved to the third floor."  
  
"Did she have any favourite places?"  
  
"The library." It was said without hesitation. "Lindsay spent nearly all her time in the library, she took school very seriously."  
  
"Was she a member of any groups or sororities?" Scully was writing all the information down.  
  
"No" Helen shook her head. "Lindsay wasn't much of a joiner, she was too focused on the final goal, she just wanted to study."  
  
"Okay." Mulder handed over a business card. "Well if you think of anything else, we'll be out there most of the day."  
  
"Agent Mulder?" Helen stopped him just as he reached the door. "Do you think you'll find her in time?"  
  
He gave her the most reassuring smile he could muster. "We'll do our best."  
  
* * *  
  
"So." Edmund sank down into the blue chair and made himself comfortable. "Tell me a bit about yourself?"  
  
"What?" She'd started to think he was going to leave her alone all day. Apart from a few minutes earlier in the day when he'd brought her breakfast and allowed her a short bathroom break, she hadn't seen or heard him. She didn't know whether to be relieved or not that she was now.   
  
"I thought we should get acquainted." He said. "I usually like to research my visitors a little more before they join me, but unfortunately there just wasn't enough time, so tell me about yourself."  
  
Visitor? He made it sound like he'd given her a choice. She wondered if he really thought he had. "What do you want to know?"  
  
He spread his arms wide. "Everything." bringing his hands back together, he clasped them in his lap. "I've seen your drivers licence so I know your name, address and birth date, but that's pitifully little. How long have you been married?"  
  
"Nearly two years."  
  
"Not long at all." He imagined the larger emotional impact from her death and smiled.   
  
"How did you meet?"  
  
She licked her lips and wondered at the danger of giving away any information. Then considered if she really had a choice. Maybe if she gave up a few things about herself she could learn about him, anything that would help her burn the bastard when they found her and she could get him into court. He may have her on his turf now, but the tables would be turned soon enough. She had to believe that. "We work together."  
  
He nodded. "Six out of every ten relationships start in the workplace, did you know that?"   
  
She didn't know but saw no reason to question him on it. "Okay.'  
  
It made him happy that she agreed with him, if anything it helped to cement that he'd made the right choice. She was perfect. "And you have a son?"  
  
If there was one thing she wasn't prepared to share it was information on her son. She kept quiet.  
  
Continuing as if he hadn't noticed her silence he asked. "How old is he?"  
  
Steadfastly she refused to answer again. After a moment he spoke again, his voice low and dangerous. "Lindsay I asked you a question, how old is your son?"  
  
"I'd rather not discuss him."   
  
His good mood went up in a cloud of smoke. "I don't believe I asked you what you wished to discuss. We discuss what I want." He was out of the chair in a flash, so fast she didn't even see him coming until he was right beside her. He grabbed a handful of her hair, yanking her head back.   
  
"If you're under any misconception of who's in charge here, as much as it would pain me I will demonstrate. Don't make me ask again Lindsay."  
  
Question answered, she thought, there was no choice at all. "He's eight months."  
  
"There now." He released the hair he had bunched in his hand and smoothed it out. "That wasn't so hard was it?" Happy again he sat back down in the chair. He wouldn't stay long, he found the covered walls depressing. But there was still time for a further chat. "What's his name?"  
  
* * *  
  
Mulder looked at the tired faces of the people sitting around the table. In truth he knew exactly how they were feeling. He and Scully had combed every inch of the Harvard campus and there was certainly a lot to cover. They'd visited dorm rooms; the library; the quad; the message boards. They'd talked to students, faculty, grounds keepers. Anybody they could stop, but it was fruitless. They'd come away with nothing.  
  
"Well that was a waste of a day." Leave it to Doug to voice the negativity. Not that Mulder disagreed, but still.   
  
"So nobody found anything?" Mulder looked around the table and found the answers reflected in the looks he got in return. The words weren't necessary, but still Adam spoke them. "No, nothing."  
  
He sighed and leaned forward, it had been a long time since he'd been required to do that much leg work. Longer than he liked to think about and he hurt in places he didn't know existed. "I followed your profile and I talked to everyone I could. Nobody knows anything. I couldn't find anything that even remotely resembled a clue."  
  
"Is it possible this guy's yanking our chain?" Doug considered himself the voice of reason. "Maybe he just likes seeing us chasing our tails. That's certainly what we were doing today."  
  
"Is it possible Agent Mulder?" Mike was leaning back in his chair, nursing a cup of coffee. "Would he do something like that just to throw us off the scent?"  
  
"What scent?" Doug interrupted, before Mulder could answer. "We're don't have a scent. All we've got is a silly poem, on paper we can't trace, photo's that give us no information and a fuzzy surveillance tape of a perpetrator we know nothing about."  
  
"Doug," Adam said "That's enough."  
  
"It'll only be enough when we find her." He looked at Mulder and then at Scully who was seated beside him. "You're supposed to be the best. The hotshots Washington sent us to show the little field agents how it's really done. Great job so far, I'm learning a heap." He pushed his chair back and stalked from the room.  
  
Ten seconds ticked by and then twenty, as the tension in the room grew. Finally Mike spoke, breaking the silence. "I should really get back to the precinct and report to my captain. Do you need me to stick around?"  
  
Mulder shook his head. "No. Thanks for your help today Detective."  
  
"No problem. If you need me for anything else, just call. I mean that." He said when Mulder didn't answer. "I'm grateful you included me today. If there's the slightest chance one of these clues could lead to finding Lindsay, I want to help." He paused. "I'll drop in and see Bobby if you don't mind. Let him know what's happening."  
  
When Mulder opened his mouth to speak he continued. "Just a general update, I know we're keeping the photo's and the notes under wraps. I just want to reassure him we're doing all we can."  
  
Mulder nodded. "I'd appreciate that."  
  
"Okay then, thanks." He watched as Mike walked out the door.  
  
Adam cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable. "I'm sorry about Doug, he was out of line. I'll have a talk to him."  
  
"It's alright." But Mulder still felt the sting of his words. Some of what Doug had said, had hit too close to home.  
  
"He's just angry. It's no excuse." He said, as Scully turned to look at him. "He shouldn't have said any of that. He gets a little defensive sometimes, he's not too keen on outsiders. Plus he's been passed over for promotion a few times."  
  
"I wonder why." Scully muttered, sarcastically.  
  
Adam gave her a small smile. "He really is a good investigator and he knows this city back to front, but if you'd like someone else, I can reassign him."  
  
"No it's alright he can stay." Mulder blocked thoughts of Doug and his attitude from his mind and focussed on the job at hand. "I imagine we'll receive another note tomorrow. I sincerely doubt he'll use the same method of getting it here as he did today, but just in case I'd like additional security added to all three exists. If you could keep them out of sight though, I don't want to scare whoever it is away. I have to file a report with my superior, I'll put in a requisition for the overtime then."  
  
"I'll take care of it." Adam answered.  
  
"Thanks." Weary, Mulder sat back in his chair. "Until then I don't really think there's anything else we can do."  
  
"Okay then." With a small nod to Scully, Adam went off to make the arrangements.   
  
"Are you alright Mulder?" Scully glanced over at him concerned.  
  
"I'm fine Scully." He almost laughed as he said it. How many times had she uttered those exact words to him and how many times had he seen through them. He doubted he was any more convincing in this instance. "I have to file a report to Skinner, I'd better do that now." Deliberately he turned away from her, standing and walking over to the computer Adam had arranged for.   
  
She knew he wasn't alright. She'd known him far too long not to pick up on what he was feeling. She also knew he didn't want to talk about it. She wasn't afraid to push through that barrier of defence he liked to build around himself, she'd done that plenty of times before and if she thought it would help him she'd do it again now. But she sensed that what he needed most at the moment was time alone, to file the report and sort through whatever he was feeling. She'd give him that.   
  
He was taking the case personally, it was always a dangerous line for an investigator to tread. Mulder stampeded over it regularly, she always wondered how much cases like these took away from him and worried that one day it would be too much. So she'd allow him a little time to ponder and undoubtedly blame himself and hopefully realise he was doing the best he could and better than most were capable of.   
  
And if he didn't come to that realisation on his own, well then, she'd just have to step in and give him that shove.  
  
* * *  
  
"You've done well Martin."  
  
"Thanks." Preening under the compliment, Martin straightened a little higher. "I followed all your instructions, just like you told me too. And I was really quick, straight in straight out. They didn't even see me." Still flushed with the success he continued. "You're plan's going to schedule isn't it?"  
  
"Yes." He found himself caught up in Martins enthusiasm as well. It was so good to be able to share his cleverness with someone, even if the recipient wasn't on his intellectual level. He had no doubt that the FBI had spent their day wandering aimlessly around, looking for further clues that never eventuated. He'd find out for sure later but just for now the thought was enough. He was having so much fun and he intended to savour every moment of it.   
  
"I need you to do something else for me Martin."  
  
"Sure." Edmund pulled out another envelope the name and address meticulously printed on the front. Martin reached out for it "You want me to go there again?" He asked eager to please "I still remember the way."  
  
"No." Edmund jerked the envelope back, just out of reach. "You can't go there again. Focus Martin." He said, when he saw the other mans eyes wander. He had the attention span of a gnat. "They'll be looking for that, you must stay as far away from that building as possible. I want you to post this letter for me. I need you to do it today, so that the letter arrives tomorrow."  
  
Martins brow furrowed. "But if you're only posting it, why can't you do that?"  
  
Why oh why, Edmund thought, do I surround myself with idiots. "Because, they're looking for me Martin." His voice was deceptively calm "It's a risk for me to even come out and see you here." Not that anyone would ever look for him in the dank, disgusting alley he was sure. But still. Still holding the envelope in one hand he reached into his pocket with the other and retrieved the fifty dollar note. He played with it idly, running it between his gloved fingers. Martin's eyes stayed glued to it the entire time. "However if you have something more important to do this afternoon, I understand."  
  
"No." Martin couldn't take his eyes off the fifty, it'd been a long time since he'd come in contact with one. "No I can do it. I'm sorry I didn't mean to question you."  
  
Pleased with the apology Edmund held out the letter again, only to snatch it back a second time. "Your gloves Martin." He said with much more patience than he was feeling. "You're to wear your gloves whenever you handle the letters remember?"  
  
"Oh sorry." He flashed a smile, showing three missing teeth, several more rotten ones just waiting to fall out. It turned Edmunds stomach. "I guess I forgot." He struggled into the gloves and finally took the letter, along with it came the much sought after money.  
  
"Today Martin, it has to be posted today, for them to receive it tomorrow. I'll be in contact."  
  
Martin watched him turn and leave then place the envelope inside the pocked of his new coat. Again he counted his blessings that he'd been lucky enough to run into Edmund when he had. He looked at the fifty dollars in his hand and reached into another pocket to retrieve the crumpled twenty that he'd been given that morning and hadn't yet had a chance to spend. Seventy dollars, he hadn't had that much money in…. well he couldn't remember the last time so it wasn't really important.   
  
The things he could buy with it scrolled through his mind. Food; clothes; maybe a room for the night with a real bed, alcohol? So many choices, he didn't know where to start. Though he reasoned that he wasn't really that hungry, because he'd stopped by the shelter for lunch and had filled up on soup and bread and why use his money for food when he could get it for free? Happy to cross that one off the list he moved to the next one, thanks to Edmund he now had a nice new coat to keep him warm and that was more clothes than he'd had yesterday wasn't it? And what did he need a night in a room for anyway, the streets had served him well enough in the past. His list was growing shorter by the minute, really only one thing remained.   
  
Alcohol.  
  
Yes. He grinned his toothless grin again and couldn't resist rubbing his hands together. He might not really need any of the other things on his list, but by God he had a thirst that he'd never been able to quench. But then he'd never had seventy dollars before either, so maybe one would help the other. He wouldn't know until he tried. Eager to get started he walked in the opposite direction to the one that Edmund had taken, the letter in his pocket already forgotten.  
  
* * *  
  
Bobby wandered the park by himself, his need to escape his friends overcoming his need to be surrounded by them. He didn't know what else to do, he'd tried to engulf himself in his work load, but that hadn't worked, every sound, every sight in the office had reminded him of Lindsay. Being at home was even worse, the memories there were so much more pronounced. The third time he'd found himself turning to tell her something, he'd known it was time to get out for a while. He didn't know why he'd come here, maybe because it was familiar and he found he needed that.   
  
He'd already resigned himself to the fact that there was nowhere he could go that wouldn't remind him of Lindsay, in fact he found comfort in that. He needed that connection, that bond. He just didn't need to be surrounded by people as he experienced it. It was too much. Turning to his left he wandered over the cement bridge with the wire railings painted a cheerful green, that crossed the small pond and watched the ducks float below. Rob loved the ducks, was it just a couple of weeks ago that he and Lindsay had brought him here to see them or a lifetime ago? Bobby couldn't tell anymore, time had no meaning for him now.  
  
The breeze ruffled his hair as he stood there looking down, lost in thought. He just couldn't get her out of his mind. The thoughts were worse since he'd seen that photo of her lying unconscious, God knows where. The FBI thought she was close by and he took some solace in that. Of course they had no idea where exactly, Mike hadn't told him much but he'd managed to garner that from the conversation. They had no leads and all they could do was wait until tomorrow. Did Lindsay even have a tomorrow in her future?  
  
No. He couldn't start to think like that. Although to a small part of his mind it seemed like he couldn't stop. But he was doing his best to keep those thoughts at bay. It was getting harder. So much harder. Shaking the rail of the bridge in frustration he pushed away from it and wandered over to the benches bordering the pond. Both knees cracked as he sat down, a sign of tension and strain. He knew what it was like to worry about Lindsay, he'd done his share when she'd been stabbed, when he'd watched her fighting for life in the hospital. But she'd been there with him, he'd known where she was, he could help her fight the battle. How could he help her now? What could he do for her but wait?   
  
She was absolutely the strongest person he knew, he took comfort in that even as the thought terrified him. What if she fought back? What if it was worse for her because she did? Once he allowed one question to form in his mind he couldn't stop. When was the last time he'd remembered to tell her he loved her? Why didn't he remember to tell her everyday? What would happen to Rob if she didn't come back? How could he grow up to be the wonderful person he was destined to be without Lindsay's guidance? Surely God couldn't be so cruel to make his son grow up without a mother the way he'd been forced too.   
  
Throwing his head back to rest against the bench, he lifted both hands to rub his face. He wanted to get rid of the negative thoughts, the worries, the doubts. He wanted to focus on all the happy times and convince himself that there'd be a lifetime of them to follow. But he couldn't because every time he tried one thought pushed it's way back into his mind.   
  
Why hadn't he paid more attention to her worries?  
  
Surely if he had, if he'd insisted that she tell him everything, if he'd made her come into the office that day rather than being on her own, or better yet if he'd stayed home, he could have avoided all of this. He was her husband and he'd let her down. Now she was in danger, at the hands of some psycho that no one could find and all he could do was wait. Wait for other people to find her. He was letting her down again.  
  
* * *  
  
Edmund let himself into the house through the garage and wandered into the living room. His first stop was to check the security monitors, he felt a small stab of disappointment when he noticed that Lindsay's eyes were closed. He wanted to share his good day with her and tell her that his plan was going exactly too schedule and that she only had five more days to live.  
  
He would tell her over dinner, he decided, since it was almost that time anyway. So good was his mood that he thought he'd go to extra trouble tonight and fix her something nice. It was the least he could do for her. After all he was sure that this situation had to be a little unpleasant for her.   
  
But first things first. It was time to check on the progress of the investigation. He knew a lot about the procedures of the FBI. He'd studied them long and hard. And one thing he knew was that while agents may have free reign to travel all over the country, they still had to report to superiors who more often than not stayed put. The simplest and quickest method of accomplishing this was of course e-mail. And while the FBI mainframe may be nearly impossible to hack into, not he thought that he couldn't do it if he'd wanted too, he just didn't have enough time. Email, was still hard to secure and a much easier method of obtaining the information.   
  
He'd purchased a worm, at considerable cost, but it had more than been worthwhile. With it he had managed to electronically burrow his way into the FBI field office and had access to any and all emails. He'd already set up the fields, queries and targets, so that every time Mulder sent an email from any computer in that building he'd be able to isolate it and copy it. They'd be none the wiser. The most important detail was to be quick, get in, get the information and get out. His program could do it in under five seconds, if he'd had more time he thought he could probably have gotten that down to under three. But that was for a later date.   
  
Opening his email he was a little surprised to see the green flag that signified a message had been located and retrieved. He thought Mulder might have worked a bit later, that it might have taken him longer to file his first report. But then he rationalised, if you hadn't found anything why wait? A small snicker escaped as he read. They were exactly where he expected them to be at this point, which was of course no where. Sometimes his genius surprised even himself. The golden boy of the FBI would still be scratching his head five days from now, when Lindsay would be dead and Edmund would be packed up and on his way to another city. The scenario played out in his head so clearly it was almost as if it was already happening.   
  
Reading the report twice more and choosing to put his own interpretation of despair on the somewhat barren information it contained just put him in a more jovial mood. By now the second note would be on its way and he couldn't wait until this time tomorrow when he could read more hopelessness in the next report. Rising he switched of the machine and wandered into the kitchen.   
  
Yes, Lindsay would eat like a queen tonight.  
  
  
* * *  
  
She found him exactly where she'd left him.   
  
Sitting alone in the darkened conference room the light of the computer screen in front of him the only illumination. With a sigh she moved further into the room, the sound of the door clicking shut behind not even registering on him.   
  
"Mulder." She said quietly. Then again more loudly when he didn't respond. A blink of his eye was his only indication that he'd heard her. "What are you doing?" She asked as she moved to sit next to him, though she thought she already knew.   
  
"Just thinking." He finally answered, confirming her own thoughts.  
  
"I guess I don't have to ask you what about?"  
  
He knew how well she knew him. "No."  
  
"So then you don't need me to tell you that none of this is your fault." She nudged his chair around until he was facing her. "We're going to find her Mulder, but sometimes these things take time, you shouldn't need me to tell you that either."  
  
"I know that Scully." He ran his hands through his hair in frustration. "This feels like amateur hour, I should be better at this. I USED to be better at this. I've been out of it for too long, it was stupid of me to think I could handle it. Stupid and selfish, I should have handed it over to the violent crimes guys the second I got the e-mail."  
  
Her eyebrows rose in surprise. She was no stranger to Mulder's self inflicted guilt, but outbursts like that were unusual even for him. "Mulder if you'd stayed in that department, you'd be running it by now. No one doubts your abilities, if they did they wouldn't have green lighted the case to start with."  
  
"I lost us a day today Scully. We're exactly where we were yesterday, which is nowhere. But now we're one day closer to the deadline."  
  
"And if you keep this attitude up we'll be having the same conversation tomorrow night." Scully reached over and plucked the latest picture of Lindsay off the board. "She needs our help Mulder, she needs our focus. She doesn't need what if's and second guessing." She stood up to replace the picture, absentmindedly straightening his dishevelled hair as she did. It seemed it was time for that shove. "I plan on finding her Mulder, if you're not too busy beating yourself up maybe you'd like to give me a hand?"  
  
He had to smile, nobody could set him straight like Scully. "I guess so."  
  
Satisfied, she nodded. "Okay then." She looked at the clock, "I'm starving and I think it's your turn to buy dinner."  
  
His mood restored he stood. "I bought last night."  
  
The eyebrow went up again. "No you were meant to buy last night, but you conveniently forgot your wallet."  
  
"Well then I paid this morning." He reached over to turn off the computer as they exited the room.  
  
"That doesn't count."  
  
The hallway was deserted as they walked down it. "Why not?"  
  
"Because that was breakfast." The look she gave him said that should explain everything, but it was spoiled a moment later by the small quirk of her lips.  
  
He cocked his head to one side. "You know Scully, sometimes your logic scares me." With a chuckle he held the front door open for her as they walked outside.  
  
* * *  
  



	8. Saturday

SATURDAY  
  
Comfortably wrapped in the thick material of his new coat Martin rolled over and let out a harsh groan. His head was throbbing like a hundred mini jackhammers had set up residence, lifting one hand to his cheek as though to keep his head in position he tentatively leaned back against the wall. He could still feel the alcohol swimming through his system, but enough of the effect had worn off, taking with it the mind numbing oblivion he had sought the night before and replacing it with a queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.   
  
His eyes still mostly closed, he peered at the bottle sitting three quarters empty beside him. There was a time when he could have drunk that much and more without feeling any effects. But that time had apparently passed. With supreme effort he forced his eyes to open the rest of the way, a flash of light caught the bottle and was reflected back at him, the result felt like a hundred shards of glass piercing his brain. Deciding small steps were possibly a good idea he settled for squinting as he attempted to push himself into a more comfortable sitting position.   
  
When his hand brushed against the paper that was poking out of his pocket, he stopped cold. Even in his semi lucid state he recognised it instantly. The butterflies that had been fluttering around his stomach moments ago, turned into a stampeding herd of elephants. His skin broke out in a cold sweat and the nausea threatened to overwhelm him. Clamping his teeth together, he pushed himself to his feet, staggered, then leant against the wall to steady himself.   
  
He hadn't posted the letter.   
  
Fear coursed through him, he had to do something. Maybe it wasn't too late, the FBI were supposed to receive it today but the sun was just coming up, breaking through the light cloud cover, so they wouldn't be expecting it yet. Of course he thought he could always dump it and pretend he'd posted it, but he gave up on that thought as soon as it entered his brain. He wouldn't be able to pull that off and Edmund would know. Edmund always knew. His only option was to get it there himself, just like he did yesterday. Still there was a niggling worry he couldn't shake, Edmund had told him not to go back there, he said they'd be waiting for that, of course Martin thought Edmund was a bit of a worrier, nothing had happened yet had it? Why borrow trouble now, besides it wasn't like he had any other options.  
  
With that thought in mind he moved away from the wall he'd been helping hold up and swaying slightly he took his first tentative step. That being a mild success, he took another one, until on unsteady legs he fumbled his way down the alley, he'd only gotten a short distance when he tripped and fell flat on his face. The ground beneath him moved and let out a loud groan, then Martin felt himself being shoved roughly aside.   
  
"What the hell?" A figure, Martin hadn't seen lying there, sat up slowly and rubbed sleep out of his eyes. "Jesus Christ Marty, what are you doing it's the crack of dawn?"  
  
"Frank?" Martin tried to sit up again but his head was still rolling. "Is that you?"  
  
"Nah, it's the Easter Bunny." Frank looked Martin up and down, "Have you been drinking?" It was a useless question, he could smell the alcohol on him. "Where'd you find the stuff?"  
  
"I brought it."  
  
"Get out."  
  
"No I did, really. I came into some money." Martin got himself back into sitting position and fumbled around till he found the fifty.   
  
"Holy shit." He reached over to touch it but Martin curled his hand up. "Where'd you get it?"  
  
"I can't tell you," But an idea was forming. "But I'll share it with you if you do me a favour?"  
  
"What would I have to do?" Frank was suspicious, but the draw of the money was strong.   
  
"Just deliver this letter for me." Martin pulled it out of his pocket and handed it over. Edmund had said he shouldn't deliver it, he didn't say anything about someone else doing it. To Martin it was the perfect solution.  
  
"Where?"  
  
Martin dragged himself to his feet once again "Come on I'll show you, we have to hurry."  
  
* * *  
  
The pounding on her door was loud enough to wake the dead. Scully opened one eye and looked at the clock, 5.15 a.m. only one person would be annoying enough to be outside her door at that time. With a kick of her feet she dislodged the blankets and got up from the bed, without bothering with a robe, she walked over and yanked the door open. Mulder stood in front of it, arm raised, fist curled mid pound, his hand whooshed down in front of him, colliding with only air instead of wood.   
  
"What took you so long?" He was already moving past her, into the room.  
  
Rolling her eyes behind his back, she closed the door. "I was asleep."  
  
"You're usually a lighter sleeper than that Scully. I was knocking forever."  
  
Not bothering to correct his exaggeration, or the fact that what he'd been doing was quite a few decibels above knocking, she looked over at him "What do you want Mulder?"  
  
"I just got a call from one of the agents guarding the field office. They've caught someone delivering another note." He was practically bouncing on his feet "They're holding him in custody. This could be the break we've been waiting for, we need to get down there."  
  
She nodded. "Just give me a couple of minutes to get dressed and I'll be right with you."  
  
He stuck his hands in his pockets and a lazy grin appeared on his face "Okay."  
  
She gave a small shake of her head and tried to bite back her own smile. "Outside Mulde.r"  
  
With an over exaggerated sigh he headed for the door. "You're no fun Scully."  
  
* * *  
  
"Where is he?" Mulder addressed the question to the agent standing just inside the door of the field office.   
  
"We've got him in a holding room." The agent started moving down the corridor.  
  
"Have you asked him any questions?"  
  
"No sir, we read him his rights and called you. Agents Miller and Griffin are also on their way."  
  
"Okay, there's a file near the computer in the conference room, could you go get that for me?" When the other Agent nodded and walked away, Mulder pushed open the door, he waited for Scully to enter and then shut it behind them.   
  
The man sitting at the table watching them was all nerves "I didn't do anything." He said immediately.   
  
"What's your name?" Mulder sat down opposite him.  
  
"Frank."  
  
Mulder pulled the notebook on the table over and started making notes "Frank?"  
  
"Turner." He tapped his fingers against the table in a nervous gesture. "Listen I didn't do anything. You can't hold me here."  
  
"We'll see." Mulder turned his head as a knock sounded on the door. He watched Scully answer it and retrieve the file, before coming to sit next to him. "I'm Agent Mulder this is Agent Scully, we'd like to ask you some questions." Without waiting for assent, he continued. "What were you doing outside the building this morning Mr Turner?"  
  
Franks fear couldn't cover his basic distrust of cops. "Nothin'.'"   
  
Mulder kept his voice impassive. "The agents that caught you said you were slipping a letter under the door. Is that correct?"  
  
"And what if it is? That's not a crime is it?"  
  
"It very well could be. Where'd you get the letter?"  
  
"Maybe I found it." He tried to keep his voice cool, but he couldn't stop the sweat from running down the side of his face.   
  
"You found it?" Mulder bit back a sigh and tried to curb his impatience. "Mr Turner we're going to get to the truth sooner or later, it'd be easier on everybody if that were sooner."  
  
"Maybe I did, what's the problem?"  
  
Scully kept one eye on Mulder as she reached into the folder. "Mr Turner, do you know this woman?" She asked, sliding a picture of Lindsay across the table.  
  
Frank looked down and studied the photo. "No." He answered honestly. "Who is she?"  
  
"She's been all over the news for the last couple of days are you sure you don't know?"  
  
Frank turned to Mulder. "Do I look like I own a TV to you?" He said sarcastically.  
  
"Her name is Lindsay Dole." Scully directed his focus back to her. "She was abducted from her home three days ago. The letter you…" She paused and glanced over at Mulder. "…. found, contains a clue to her whereabouts."  
  
"Do you know what that means, Frank?" Mulder leaned forward. "It means we can charge you as an accessory. Is that what you want?"  
  
"No way." The sweat was making his shirt stick to his back. "I haven't got anything to do with any abductions. You're not pinning this on me."  
  
"Then tell us the truth." He pulled out a photo of Edmund. "Have you had any contact with this man?"  
  
"No. I don't know him, I don't know anything. You've got the wrong guy."  
  
"You had the letter Mr Turner, where'd you get it?"  
  
Frank figured friendship only went so far. "From Marty. He said I could make some money if I delivered it. But that's all I know. I swear."  
  
Mulder sat back in the uncomfortable plastic chair. "Who's Marty?"  
  
Frank shrugged. "Marty, he's a guy I know. He fell over me this morning. Literally. He'd been drinking, said he'd come into some money and that he'd share it with me if I'd do him a favour. He wanted me to drop off this letter, it seemed harmless enough." He licked his lips nervously. "I didn't know what it was about."  
  
Mulder was still taking notes. "What's Marty's last name?"  
  
"Man, I don't know. He's just Marty, we don't have a lot of use for last names on the street."  
  
"Where can we find him?" Scully asked.  
  
"I don't know, he moves around a lot. I was surprised to see him this morning, he doesn't usually hang in my area, but I guess he must have just passed out or something. I've run into him a couple of times at the soup kitchen on Hudson you might find him there."  
  
Mulder nodded. "Okay, Mr Turner, we're going to get one of the other Agents to escort you to another holding area for awhile, while we follow this lead. We may need to talk to you again."  
  
"But I don't know anything else." Mulder opened the door and motioned the waiting Agent inside. "I can't tell you what I don't know." Frank said, desperately.  
  
"I'm sure we won't be very long." Mulder responded. "We'll get you some breakfast and make you as comfortable as possible." He watched as Frank was lead from the room and turned to Scully. "So what do you think?"  
  
* * *  
  
Helen was three quarters of the way through her second cup of coffee and idly wondering if she should go for a third or whether it was too early, when she heard the phone. By the fourth ring she'd managed to locate it, where it had been squashed down the side of the sofa cushion and with a firm tug she pulled it free and pressed the button.  
  
"Hello?" She pulled her robe more comfortably around her and sat on the couch.  
  
"Helen? It's Mike."  
  
Her heart jumped into her throat. "Have they found her?"  
  
"No. Not yet." He adjusted the headset of his mobile phone. "But they've picked someone up for questioning. Apparently he was caught dropping off another note a couple of hours ago. I'm just on my way in there now."  
  
Helen was already moving down the hallway towards her room "I'll go in too."  
  
"No, they don't know I've called you. Besides they probably wouldn't let you in anyway."  
  
She was rummaging through clothes looking for something to wear. "Mike I'm the DA on record."  
  
"I know that Helen and that was fine when it was my case. But the Feds have it now, so our jurisdictions shaky at best. I'm lucky they called me in."  
  
She sat down on the bed with a huff. "I hate not being able to do anything."  
  
"I know." And because he did, his voice softened. "Listen hang by the phone as soon as I know anything I'll give you a call." He paused "It'd probably be better if you didn't call Bobby straight away."  
  
She'd been preparing to do just that when she hung up. "Why?"  
  
"Because we really don't know anything yet and I don't want to get his hopes up. This could turn out to be a dead end." There was a crackle as the car passed under some power lines. "Just wait okay. I'll call as soon as I know something."  
  
"Alright." But waiting really wasn't her strong point.   
  
"I've got to go I'm nearly there."  
  
"I'll be here all day."  
  
"Okay." Without saying goodbye he disconnected the phone.  
  
"Who was that?" Ellenor stood in the doorway, a baby in each arm.  
  
"Mike." Helen walked over and took hold of Robbie. "They caught the guy that was delivering the notes. He's being questioned now. Mike's going to stay in touch."  
  
"That's great" Ellenor's excitement was palpable. "We should call Bobby."  
  
"No. Mike wants us to wait."  
  
Excitement turned into incredulity. "Why?"  
  
"He doesn't know what's happening yet. He wants to make sure the lead goes somewhere before we get Bobby's hopes up." She patted Robbie's back when he started to fret. "I guess it makes sense."  
  
Ellenor sighed, but she didn't argue. "I wish there was more we could do."  
  
Helen looked down at the baby in her arms. Lindsay's baby. "We're doing what we can."  
  
* * *  
  
"How are your eggs?" Edmund watched Lindsay from his usual position on the blue couch. She had a breakfast tray in front of her, her movements were somewhat clumsy as she tried to manoeuvre the food onto the plastic spoon he'd given her.  
  
Lindsay nodded but didn't answer as she slowly chewed. She flexed her fingers around the handle of the spoon trying to bring some circulation back to them. Her bound hands made it difficult to eat her left hand was throbbing from the cut she'd received when he had taken her, but she resisted the urge to rub it, she wouldn't give him the satisfaction. She couldn't see anything under the blood soaked bandage he'd first put over it, but she was sure it must be infected.  
  
"Today's going to be another wonderful day for us Lindsay." He was in too good a mood to be bothered by her lack of response. By now he thought, Agent Mulder should have received the second note, he could picture him scratching his head in confusion and marvelling at Edmonds superiority. Certainly Edmund marvelled at it himself.  
  
He leaned forward slightly and watched while Lindsay struggled with another spoonful of food. She'd told him a lot about her work yesterday and her family, but he thought today they might delve further into her past, her childhood, he was interested to learn about the child that had become the woman before him.   
  
He opened his mouth to start the conversation but was distracted when his phone rang. Pulling it out of his pocket he frowned at it. Martin was the only person who had this number and he knew better than to use it for no reason. Of course he could be as buoyed by the way everything was progressing as Edmund was and looking for his next assignment. And undoubtedly more money.   
  
The phone continued to ring as Edmund stood. "Excuse me." He gave Lindsay a small nod as he unlocked the door. And with a press of a button he answered "Yes?"  
  
* * *  
  
Martin was scared.   
  
Bone chilling fear coursed through him. Sweat flowed freely under the long coat he wore as the day began to warm up, but he refused to take it off. He no longer felt the effects of the alcohol that had provided such a haven for him last night. Instead he felt stone cold sober and uncomfortably aware of just how bad the situation had become. They had Frank. Martin had seen him being caught, had witnessed his futile struggles as they'd shepherded him inside the building. And if they had Frank it was only a matter of time before they had him.   
  
They could be looking for him now. His head whipped around to the left and then to the right, as if he could sense the presence of the police beside him, but there was nobody there. He allowed himself a small sigh of relief, but pushed himself further against the wall, to make himself less visible, just in case. If they caught him he'd go back to jail, he knew it and the thought terrified him. They wouldn't care that he'd needed the money, that all he'd done was provide a bit of information. They'd hold him accountable and they'd lock him up again.   
  
He couldn't go back.  
  
He didn't know where he should go. Frank could have told them anything, he knew most of the places Martin liked to hang out. What he really needed was to get away. To find another street in another city and make it his. But he couldn't do it on his own. The fifty dollars he had wouldn't be enough for the move and there was only one person he could turn to for help. Not, Martin thought that Edmund would be happy to do so. Still getting Martin out of the city was probably Edmund's best option as well, he reasoned. And his fear of jail, far outweighed his fear of Edmund.   
  
With another quick look over both shoulders he darted across the street to the pay phone. With clammy fingers he shoved the coin into the slot and dialled. It took a heart stopping six rings for the call to be answered. He heard Edmunds voice on the other end of the line, he sounded happy. "Yes?"  
  
Air whooshed out of Martins lungs, he took a deep breath to refill them. "Something's happened."  
  
* * *  
  
"Good everyone's here." Mulder strode into room and looked around the table where Scully, Doug, Adam and Mike were all seated. His hands were full of folders that he proceeded to hand out before walking over to the board that housed all the clues to date. "As I'm sure you're all aware by now at 5.04 a.m. Frank Turner was apprehended outside this building trying to deliver this message." He pinned the latest note in the area reserved for Saturday and read it out for the benefit of the other occupants of the room.  
  
"To assist in your attempts I offer this clue  
We're located in plain site, but she's hidden from view,   
She can scream and scream but you'll hear no sound  
You'll have to pay attention if she's to be found."  
  
"Again with the rhyming." Doug murmured.  
  
Ignoring him, Adam turned to Mulder "That doesn't tell us a whole lot."  
  
"No it doesn't." Mulder walked over and took a seat next to Scully. "We'll get back to that in a moment. If you look in the folders I just gave you there's a transcript of the interview Scully and I had with Mr Turner. Basically he's denying any knowledge of the abduction, according to him he was asked this morning to deliver the letter by a man he refers to as Marty. Apparently Marty's been flashing some money around and he offered to share it in exchange for Frank making the delivery. I have him working with a sketch artist now to give us composite."  
  
Scully turned to him "What about fingerprints."  
  
"The lab's working on it now they said they'd rush the results up as soon as they had them."  
  
"Do you believe him Agent Mulder?" Mike looked up from the file he'd been reading.   
  
"I don't know. He looked genuinely surprised when we mentioned Lindsay, but that could just be an act." He fiddled with paper in front of him. "We're keeping him in custody until we chase down some of these leads."  
  
When someone knocked at the door, Scully went to open it. She took the file the technician handed her with a smile, before reclaiming her seat. "What does it say?" Mulder asked.  
  
She skimmed through the notes flipping pages as she went. "They retrieved two sets of prints off the envelope, none off the paper that the letter was written on. One set of prints match Frank Turner" She flipped another page. "The other belong to Martin Caldow, he's got a criminal record Mulder. They pulled his details out of the system, he served time at Rikers, for assault and battery and was released in '94. His last known address was in New York back in '96. Nothing since then."  
  
"New York?" Mulder felt a piece of the puzzle click into place. "Edmund Harrison was imprisoned at Rikers. He would have been there in '94 Scully. Maybe that was where they met. Edmund decided he needed help with his plan and he looked up his old prison buddy to assist."  
  
Scully nodded. "It's worth checking out."  
  
Mulder turned to Adam "Can you get in contact with the authorities at Rikers? Find out if Martin and Edmund had any contact while they were at the prison?"  
  
"No problem."  
  
"What do you want me to do?" Mike leaned forward in his chair.  
  
"Scully and I are going to go and have another chat to Frank Turner. We'll get a complete list of all the places Martin may be, then we're going to need to canvas the area." He turned towards Doug. "We'll need your help as well."  
  
Doug nodded. "What about the note?"  
  
Mulder looked at the board. "We'll focus on this first. If we can find Martin Caldow, we can hopefully get Lindsay's location and we wont need to bother with it. If not, we'll meet back here later and try to break it down." Both he and Scully stood and gathered their papers, for the first time since he'd taken this case Mulder felt a glimmer of hope that it might just end well after all.  
  
* * *  
  
NO!  
  
The word screamed through Edmunds mind. In frustration he hurled the cellular phone away, watched as it bounced off the back of the sofa and landed with a soft thud on the thick carpet. It wasn't fair, it just WASN'T fair! He'd had everything planned, down to the last detail. And now through no fault of his own, the whole game was in jeopardy. He couldn't lose, it simply wasn't an option. To him going back to jail wasn't nearly as bad as being outwitted again. He was superior damn it. This set back would only prove how superior he was, when he overcame it and won anyway.  
  
But first he had to remove a rather large obstacle in his way.  
  
Fresh rage swam through him as he thought of the conversation he'd just had with Martin. He'd trusted him, brought him in to his confidence and this was the thanks he'd received. Well he wouldn't stand for it. That Martin would have the nerve to mess up so badly and still call Edmund for help was not just insulting it was downright ridiculous. Oh he would help, Edmund thought, Martin wanted to get away? Edmund planned to ensure that trip was a permanent one.   
  
He moved through the house towards his bedroom and rummaged through the drawers to side of his bed. After a few moments of searching he pulled out a small box. Carefully he undid the latch and retrieved the object inside, the knife fit his hand perfectly, the ruby stone in the handle warm against his palm. He'd show Martin who was in charge and then in a few days he'd show Mulder. Indeed he'd show everybody.   
  
With deliberate movements he headed towards the stairs.  
  
Lindsay looked up as Edmund entered the room. She could see the anger and strain in his face, but had little time to wonder at the cause as he slammed the knife down on the side table and strode towards the bed. Her breakfast tray still only half finished went flying into the opposite wall as food splattered everywhere. With fury in his eyes Edmund reached out and with a hand at her throat hauled Lindsay forward.  
  
"Tell me Lindsay." He voice deceptively calm he leaned in until their faces were only inches apart. "Do you believe you're going to be saved?"  
  
Tears welled in her eyes, as his hand momentarily cut off her airway. She made a small choking sound.  
  
"Answer me damn you!" He swung out blindly in pure rage, his free hand connecting with the side of her head. She saw stars as the ring he wore on his little finger cut into the side of her eye. She had no time to react to the second or third strike, no longer delivered with an open hand but instead with a fist. He released the grip he had on her throat and with both hands grabbed the front of her shirt shaking her roughly.   
  
"They're not going to get here in time, do you hear me?" The last words were shouted at her as he continued to shake her. Her eye was starting to swell and she could feel the sticky, warm blood run down the side of her face. With no warning at all he let her go, so she fell against the bed and he retrieved the knife from the table. It took barely a flick of his thumb to have the blade whooshing out and her good eye widened in fear as he slowly approached her again.  
  
This time when he grabbed her she lifted her bound hands to ward him off, but he was too strong. In a smooth move he grabbed her by the hair bared her throat to the blade. "I have to take care of some unfortunate business today Lindsay." From his tone he could have been having a conversation over coffee, only the heat that still flared in his eyes betrayed his anger. "I have to fix a mess that never should have happened and in the process I have to kill a trusted friend."  
  
Her throat clogged in fear and she made a small choking sound, but she didn't dare move. "I'm going to take this knife and I'm going to open him up from sternum to spleen, as a penalty for disappointing me. And when they find his body they're going to know who controls the game." The hand in her hair tightened. "But I want to hear it from you before I go. Who controls the game Lindsay? Who's in charge?"  
  
Her answer was barely a whisper. The knife at her throat was pressed in closer. "I couldn't hear you."  
  
"You are."  
  
Satisfied with her answer he pulled the knife away. "That's right." In one final move of dominance he threw her across the room, she gave a shriek of pain as her head collided with the far wall and her eyes rolled backwards as she slumped unconscious to the floor. He looked at her there, lying in the remains of her breakfast and taking the time to close the blade on the knife he turned and walked away.  
  
* * *  
  
The midday sun was high overhead as they walked down the street. Scully watched Mulder as he pushed through the door to the next shelter on his list. With everyone they visited, every dead end they met, his momentum faltered a little more. So far the information Frank had delivered was proving unhelpful, Scully didn't know if he was providing misdirection in a misguided attempt to help his friend, or not but they had just about run through all the places on the list he'd provided, with no success. There was only two more to go and then they were on their own.   
  
She watched Mulder straighten up a little further as he approached the counter, to people who didn't know him as well he appeared calm, confident and in control. If his momentum was faltering his determination certainly wasn't. With a practiced move he reached into the inside pocket of his coat and removed his id. With a small flick of his wrist he had it opened.   
  
"I'm agent Mulder from the FBI." Although he was addressing the two people serving food, he made sure his voice was loud enough to carry across the entire room.  
  
Silence descended. There was no longer the sound of utensils moving across plates, chairs scrapping the floor or the muted tones of conversation. She watched as eyes focussed on Mulder, some with nervousness, some with disdain, all with curiosity. A few glanced fleetingly towards the door, where Mike stood blocking the entrance, as if judging their chances of escape.   
  
Mulder held up the flyer that had both pictures of Martin and Edmund on it. He did a slow 180 degree turn to encompass the whole room. "We're looking for these men, Martin Caldow and Edmund Harrison. We'd like to talk to anyone who can give us information on their whereabouts."  
  
Scully moved past the tables, depositing the flyers as she went, judging peoples reactions. "What'd they do?" The young man behind the counter, with a plastic name tag that read 'Pete' leaned forward to get a closer look.  
  
"They're wanted for questioning regarding a kidnapping that happened a few days ago."  
  
"Is there a reward?" A balding man of approximately fifty, with a greasy comb over that started at his left ear but didn't quite make it all the way to his right, spoke up.  
  
"There may be a sum available for any information that directly leads to the apprehension of either party." He too was judging reactions. "Does anybody know anything?"  
  
The murmuring started up again, quietly but nobody came forward. It was exactly what Mulder expected. He handed out more flyers. "Our contact details are on the bottom of the page, if you do hear anything we'd appreciate a call." He gave a nod to the servers and followed Scully out the door.   
  
Slipping on his sunglasses, Mike turned to them. "Another strike out, huh?"  
  
Mulder gave a small shake of his head and looked at Scully. "Did you see him?"  
  
She nodded. "In the far corner, green shirt, late fifties. He definitely knows something."  
  
"Yeah." Mulder put on his own glasses to battle the harsh sun. "He looked like he wanted to bolt the second I held up that flyer. If the detective hadn't been standing at the door, I think he would have given it a shot."  
  
Mike hadn't seen any of this, but if they said it, then he was willing to believe it. "So why don't we take him in for questioning?"  
  
"We don't have any grounds to do that. As far as everyone's concerned he was just sitting in a shelter eating a bowl of soup."  
  
Mike turned to Scully. "But we can't just let him go."  
  
"No." Mulder started back down the street to where the car was parked. "We're not going to let him go. He has to come out of there sometime." He unlocked the doors. "So we'll wait."  
  
* * *  
  
Bobby started when he heard the key turn in the door. For a moment, one brief perfect moment he could almost believe it was Lindsay coming home, maybe from a lunch with Helen or a shopping expedition, bursting to tell him where she'd been or what she'd been talking about. But then even before the first tumbler turned in the lock reality came back to him and he knew it wasn't. Settling back in his chair he waited for Eugene to come in with the lunch supplies. Through mutual agreement they'd decided that store bought food was the safest for everyone.  
  
He got the surprise of his life when his father struggled through the door, a bag of food in one hand and Robbie in the other.  
  
"Dad." He was out of the chair in a second, taking the bag of groceries from his father. "What are you doing here?"  
  
"Thanks." Now that he had a hand free Stephen reached over to shut the door, before settling himself and Robbie on the sofa. "Every time I spoke to you on the phone you'd tell me not to come. But I was getting worried about you, I guess I just wanted to see for myself that you were doing okay." He looked Bobby over with a critical eye. "You've lost some weight."  
  
Feeling like he was ten years old again, Bobby shrugged. "Food hasn't been that big a priority at the moment."  
  
Stephen sighed, Eugene had said as much too him when he'd run into him downstairs. Right before he'd handed him the bag of food and keys and suggested maybe he could get Bobby to eat. "Lindsay's wouldn't want you to make yourself sick Bobby. She's going to need you at full strength when they find her." He jiggled Robbie up and down on his lap. "And so will this little guy."  
  
At Bobby's vacant stare he continued. "I've been calling Helen to see how he is, she mentioned you haven't been over to see him. I thought you might enjoy the visit."  
  
Bobby continued to stare into the middle distance, studiously avoiding his fathers gaze. "I've been meaning to go."  
  
"But you haven't?" Stephen stared at his son intently. He thought it was long past the time for a push, but he had no idea how far he should go.  
  
"No." He sighed and looked down at his hands. "I can't….." Cant what? He thought. Can't look at Rob without seeing Lindsay, her eyes, her chin, he smile. Can't hold him without remembering the three of them together? "I can't be what he needs right now."  
  
"He doesn't need much Bobby, just to know you're still here." Stephen looked down and watched Rob play with the little yellow duck on his jumpsuit. If he was stepping over the line so be it, he had things he needed to say and that he thought Bobby needed to hear.   
  
"He misses her too Bobby, he's too young to understand that she didn't want to go. All he knows is that every morning he wakes up and she's not there. Don't make him miss you too."  
  
Tears sprang into Bobby's eyes and for the first time since they'd come into the room, he looked at his son. "I can't look after him right now Dad, I don't have it in me."  
  
Stephen stood and placed Rob on Bobby's lap. "Then why don't you just play with him for a little while. Just spend a little time with him."   
  
He watched Bobby take hold of Rob and after the briefest hesitation draw him in for a hug before settling him down on his lap again. He reached for the bag of groceries and took them into the kitchen to dish up the food, listening to Bobby's quiet murmurs as he went. He'd feed his son and join him in playing with his grandson and maybe for an hour or so take Bobby's mind off his troubles. It was a little thing to do, but as he walked back into the living room with the sandwiches and saw Rob playing with the duck again and Bobby making little quacking sounds, he thought it might be enough.  
  
* * *  
  
They followed him when he came out of the shelter, saw him look over his shoulder as if he sensed someone might be watching and then dart off to the left. They kept pace with him as he rounded corners and moved through the streets. They wanted to see where he lived. It took him about fifteen minutes to stop moving, before he flopped down in the corner of a narrow back lot that even in the mid afternoon the sun never fully reached.   
  
His head whipped around as he heard them approach, he was on his feet in seconds, his stance defensive. "What do you want?" His tone held a note of disdain of someone who'd spent the better part of his life avoiding the cops.  
  
Mulder took a step closer. "We'd like to ask you a few questions."  
  
"I got nothin' to say to you."  
  
"What's your name?"  
  
He gave Mulder a considering look. "Jack."  
  
"We saw you in the shelter this morning Jack."  
  
"So?" He cast a nervous eye over to where Mike was looking at his things. "There's no crime against getting a bite to eat. What's he doing?"  
  
"Nothing." Mulder gave Mike a subtle sign to step away. "Did you hear me mention the case I'm working on?"  
  
"Sure, somebody's been nabbed I don't know anything about it."  
  
Mulder pulled out the flyer and handed it over "But you do know this man, don't you?"  
  
Jack wiped his hands down his shirt already covered by dirt and grime, before taking the page. Mulder saw a flash of recognition in his eyes before it was clouded over with suspicion. "He's really involved in a kidnapping?"  
  
Mulder pulled out the picture of Lindsay "She went missing three days ago."  
  
Honesty warred with loyalty as Jack looked at the picture. All of his instincts told him to lie to protect Marty. There was a code on the street, despite what people read or saw on television, it wasn't every man for himself. Friendships here were as strong as anywhere else. Still he took another look and the image of Lindsay stared straight back at him. He had a daughter that would be just about her age, he thought. It was another lifetime to him, but it didn't make her any less real.   
  
He let out a sigh. "Marty hangs out here sometimes. We both like to crash here, it's a quiet place. Not much chance to get into trouble."  
  
"Have you seen him the last couple of days?"  
  
"No." He ran a dirty hand through greasy hair. "It's kinda strange now you mention it, cause I got some stuff of his, he asked me to look after it. Said he'd come back for it, but he never did."  
  
"That didn't worry you?" Scully spoke up for the first time.  
  
"Christ no." He gave a small shrug "Marty often disappeared, this wasn't his only hang out. Truth is it's hard to get a permanent spot on the streets. God damn cops are always rousting you out of one place or another." He gave them a mild glare.  
  
"If Marty were on the run, is there someplace you'd know that he would go?"  
  
"Beats me." He handed the pictures back to Mulder. "One place is as likely as the other, I figure. He might come back here to get his stuff, don't know. It's a big city, he could be anywhere."  
  
"Yeah." It was exactly the answer Mulder had been expecting. "I don't suppose we could have that stuff you're holding onto?"  
  
"Sure." Jack leaned down and moving a couple of worn blankets pulled out a tattered shopping bag. "Be my guest, it saves me carrying it around. There's not much there anyway." God knows he'd already checked.  
  
"Thanks." Mulder took, the bag and started off back towards the street. He turned to Mike as he walked. "I'd like you to get a plain clothes detective to stake out the area. I don't think he'll really come back here, but it pays to be covered."  
  
Mike nodded and took his phone out to make the call.  
  
* * *  
  
"I wasn't sure if you'd come."   
  
Martin rubbed his hands together as he addressed Edmund. He nearly hadn't recognised him with the blonde wig, thin moustache and thick glasses. But there was no disguising the eyes. Martin felt a chill run up his spine as they stared down at him. "I did everything you told me too, getting here. Nobody saw me."  
  
The fixed stare remained the same. "If you'd done everything I'd asked of you Martin, you wouldn't need to be here in the first place. It's quite a mess you've gotten yourself into."  
  
The singular reference wasn't lost on Martin, sweat began to bead on his brow. "I'm sorry about that. I didn't mean for this to happen." He slumped back against the wall.  
  
Edmund remained straight as an arrow, he had no intention of touching the grimy walls or anything else in the disgusting alley. "Regardless of what you thought, you've let me down Martin. I trusted you to help me with this, I rewarded you for good work. This is the thanks I get?"  
  
Sweat was now leaving a wide trail down Martin's back. "I can make it up to you."  
  
Edmunds smile was cold, calculated and ruthless. "If only you could Martin, but I'm afraid I don't give second chances. The police know about you now, undoubtedly they're looking all over the city for you. And if they find you they're one step closer to finding me. I'm sure you can see how that puts me in a predicament."  
  
He reached into his pocket for his leather gloves and put them on slowly, first the left hand then the right. Martins eyes darted around nervously, desperately searching for an escape route, but Edmund had effectively boxed him in between a dumpster and the wall.   
  
"I was going to make this painless for you Martin. We go back a long way after all." He reached into his pocket and withdrew the knife, running the handle through his gloved fingers as he spoke. "But then I thought if I made it too quick you wouldn't have time to really think about what you've done."  
  
Martin didn't even have time to blink as the blade flashed out and was plunged deep into his mid section. The serrated edges of the blade tore his flesh more as it was pulled back out. He tried to sink to his knees as the pain built but Edmund held him up by the collar and sank the blade in again. "They say stomach wounds are horribly painful" He leaned in closer to Martin, the sight of the blood was exhilarating him. "Is that true?"  
  
He could taste blood in his mouth from where he'd bitten through his tongue and his eyes were starting to glaze over, the only sound he was capable of making was a small gurgling noise. He felt the knife enter him again, although he was past pain now, heard the sickening crunch of bone as the steel connected with it. Felt his ribs nearly burst through his skin as Edmund tried to dislodge it, twisting it as he went. But it was no use, had Martin been able to talk he would have tried to explain that, but he had no voice left. Finally after a few more attempts Edmund gave up trying to retrieve his knife, with a glove smeared with blood he pushed Martin down to the ground.  
  
"It appears I've given you one more payment before you die Martin. Enjoy it." And without a backwards glance he strode down the alley.  
  
Martin tried half heartedly to push himself up against the wall, but to no avail. The pain was too great and his body too weak. Blood pooled on the ground around him, soaking through his clothes and making his hands slick. He could see the knife sticking out of his stomach, twisted around so that the ruby eye of the serpent stared back at him. He knew his time was nearly up.  
  
With a shuddering breath, he closed his eyes and waited to die.  
  
* * *  
  
There were times when all the pieces just fit together, Mulder thought and then there were times like this. He looked at some of those pieces now, scattered over the conference room table. Looked at them as he'd been looking at them for the last twenty minutes.   
  
There was nothing there.  
  
No hidden clues to be found amongst the trinkets that had made up Martins life. The silver box that was tarnished with age and exposure and opened to reveal old photo's that were worn around the edges and turning yellow. The military patch that if it belonged to him said he'd risen to the rank of petty officer third class. A worn edition of National Geographic from 1997 with its back cover missing and a dirty shirt that had more holes in it than fabric left. If there'd been anything of monetary value it'd long since been sold or stolen.  
  
They were snapshots of the life he'd led, but gave them little information on the man he was today. Or where he'd gone. Or what part he'd played in the abduction of Lindsay Dole. Little clues that led nowhere, the story of this case. In frustration he pushed away from the table and wandered over to the board, taking down the days clue. As clues went it revealed surprisingly little, but then he guessed that was the point. Carrying it back over to the table he slid it across to Scully as he sat "What do you think?"  
  
"Well," She took a minute to study it again, her brow furrowing in a small frown of concentration. "I guess if we take it on face value he's got her hidden away somewhere, which would make sense. I mean he's hardly going to parade her around with everyone looking for her. And going by this he either has her in an already sound proofed room or he sound proofed it himself. Which would also make sense." She pushed the page back towards him. "Nothing really helpful."  
  
"If we look at it at face value."  
  
"How else is there to look at it?" Doug looked up from the copy of the national geographic he'd been studying. Meticulously looking for clues he'd decided just weren't there.  
  
"I don't know." Mulder gave an impatient shrug. "This line 'We're located in plain sight, but she's hidden from view.' What's that mean? What's the in plain sight? What are we meant to be looking for?"  
  
"It could be anything." Adam reached out for the verse, stared at it as if by looking hard enough it would give up all its secrets and then realised all it would probably give him would be more of a headache than he already had. "He obviously planned this thing out, so he would have had a place prepared. A house or an apartment, or a hotel room."  
  
Mulder mulled it over in his head "Most likely a house. Hotels and apartments have too many people coming and going, they're too close together and harder to hide someone successfully. Besides after being in prison for so long he'd probably be craving the solitude."  
  
"Or maybe it's the other way around." Mike answered "Maybe after being with so many people for so long he's used to it. And he can't stand the solitude."  
  
"I don't know." Mulder chewed on his lip and thought it through "He'd still want to hide her, he fully intends to kill her if we don't find her in time and then he'll want to dispose of her body…" He shot a careful look towards Mike and saw the other man tense "…. somewhere that we'd find it. He'd want a bit of privacy to do that."  
  
"So we're looking for a house?"  
  
Mulder nodded at Doug "I think so, we'll go with that for now." He sighed, they had to go with something, until Martin turned up they had precious little else.  
  
* * *  
  
She hurt.  
  
It was the first thought that entered her mind and the only one she seemed capable of forming. She tried to move and let out a low moan. Pain came from everywhere, she didn't know what part of her hurt more and it hardly seemed to matter. Her left shoulder ached from taking most of her weight as she lay in the awkward position she'd fallen in. Her knees throbbed from the contact they'd made with the hard floor, she couldn't open her right eye but still didn't have her wits about her to remember why. And she thought surely that her skull must be cracked, for nothing else could explain the pain rocketing through her head.   
  
When she tried to push herself up with hands still sticky with her own blood and felt her body screaming in protest she thought she might not be too far from the mark. She'd been unconscious, of that she was sure, but the lack of natural light in the room made it impossible for her to know for how long. Her vision swam and nausea danced in her belly, but she gritted her teeth and propped her good shoulder against the nearest wall. If she squinted in the soft light the pain behind her eyes diminished slightly and turning her head very gently she was able to take in her surroundings.   
  
She was on the floor, though in that moment she couldn't remember why, sprawled half on the cold cement and half on the thick rug with the bright red and yellow and blue flowered pattern. Glass from her broken breakfast dishes cut into her flesh, when she moved, causing new blood to mix with the dried blood pooled beneath her. She used both her bound hands to take stock of her injuries, feeling first along the line of jaw, noting the ache when she opened her mouth. Up they moved across her face, her nose seemed intact, the left side though dirty didn't appear hurt either.   
  
With equal measures of trepidation and anxiety she moved her hands gently towards the right side. It had appeared numb, the sort of feeling usually associated with swelling until she touched it. Then in a rush of feeling all the pain rushed back in and had her wanting to curl back up in a ball until it went away. She would have cried out had her injured jaw allowed her that freedom of movement, but instead she could only manage another low moan, as she continued her exploration. Her hair was matted against her cheek, caught up in the river of blood that had made the journey from the gash beside her eye, down past her ear and onto the side of her neck. With fingertips coated in dirt, food and blood, she pulled it away and felt it hang limply beside her ear.   
  
A stinging in her neck brought her fingertips there and she encountered the thin cut and more dried blood. Memories of the knife came flooding back, of the crazy look in Edmunds eye and his insistence of being in control. Silent tears streamed from her good eye and she made a half hearted attempt to wipe them away. A sob formed in her chest, she refused to let out, it almost rattled her rib cage with it's desire for release, but she held it at bay. She eyed the bed from her position over the other side of the room and then judged the distance too great and settled her head as gently as she could against the padding on the wall. She was scared, she was tired and she hurt.   
  
She wanted to go home.  
  
And for the first time since she'd been taken she thought she wasn't going to make it.   
  
* * *  
  
His father had stayed.   
  
Bobby watched him now sitting on the recliner nursing his coffee. He thought Stephen was only going to be there for an hour or so, he'd half expected him to leave when Eugene had walked through the door with Rebecca in tow, but he'd stayed. When Jimmy had shown up an hour later with a six pack of beer and a sheepish smile, he'd finally realised why.   
  
They were scared. He hadn't been alone once since the whole ordeal had begun. They'd taken turns watching him, keeping him occupied. But no one had done the same for them, they'd all had time on their own to think and to worry and hurt. They'd all been looking for a path through the grief and it appeared the path led to them being together. When the doorbell rang again and Eugene admitted Elenor, Zoey, Helen and Mike he thought his family was nearly complete.   
  
Not at all surprised to see them Jimmy looked up from the takeout menu's he'd been reading. "We're trying to decide between Chinese and Pizza. What do you prefer?"  
  
"Pizza." Helen said at the same time Ellenor answered "Chinese."  
  
"Well that's helpful." Jimmy muttered and went back to looking at the menu's.  
  
Always practical, Eugene just shot him an exasperated look. "You know Jimmy we can get both, it doesn't have to be an either/or thing." He looked around the room "Why don't you tell me what you want and I'll phone in the order, then I'll go and pick Lucy up, because God knows if she finds out we had a get together and didn't invite her we wont hear about anything else for the next week. And then I'll pick it up."  
  
When everyone started yelling out their orders he held up both hands. "Okay change of plans, don't tell me what you want I'll just choose a selection, thus saving my sanity and you can eat whatever I get." Without waiting for an answer he turned on his heel and headed for the phone in the kitchen, Jimmy trailing behind him telling him not to forget the sweet and sour pork.  
  
Ellenor sighed and settled herself and Zoey on the floor where Rebecca and Rob were playing with blocks. "What would we do without Eugene?"  
  
They came back out a few minutes later. "Jimmy." Eugene said, shooting an annoyed look at them other man "And I are going to get Lucy and the food, we wont be long." With Jimmy again dogging his heels he grabbed the keys and walked out.   
  
Bobby took advantage of the small lull in conversation. "Any news Mike?"  
  
Mike nodded as he sat. Took note of the eager sets of eyes that looked at him before focussing his attention on Bobby. The FBI had cleared him to keep them up to date on the status of the investigation, but he wished he could come with more. "We had a small break today Bobby."  
  
Taking his time and being as detailed as he was allowed to be he outlined the days events, the belief that Edmund was working with a partner and the steps they were taking to find them both. But from the blank look in Bobby's eyes he knew it wasn't enough. The only other thing Mike could think to do was offer some hope. "The FBI are right on top of this Bobby. They're giving it everything they've got, they're going to break this case they just need a bit of time."  
  
"Time's not something we have a lot of Mike."  
  
"They know that." Helen said, sitting on the arm of his chair. "They're going to find her Bobby you have to believe that, we all do."  
  
"Yeah, you're right." He rubbed his hands over his face. "I'm glad you're all here. I may not remember to say that later, but I am. I appreciate it."  
  
Rebecca lifted Rob onto her lap when he started to fuss. "We wouldn't want to be anywhere else."  
  
He gave her a small but heartfelt smile. "I know that too."  
  
A few minutes later Eugene and Jimmy walked through the door, laden down with pizza boxes and plastic bags, Lucy walking behind them telling them they'd brought too much. "You've got enough here to feed an army."  
  
"And you didn't pay for it so why are you complaining?" Jimmy shot back.  
  
"I'm just trying to be helpful." She replied, somewhat huffily.   
  
"You aim for helpful a lot, you hit annoying most often though."  
  
Ever the peacemaker Rebecca rose, handed Rob to Helen and relieved Jimmy of some of his burden. "Alright, lets not fight, it's better to have too much than not enough."  
  
"That's what I said." Jimmy muttered.  
  
Bobby watched them all, setting up food, arguing half heartedly and generally just making a lot of racket and thought the only thing that would make the scene more perfect was if Lindsay was there to share it.  
  
  
* * *  
  
It was a relief when he got home.   
  
Peeling of his soiled coat and gloves he retrieved a plastic garbage bag and stuffed them inside. He'd have to dispose of them properly at a safer time. For now he was home and had no intention of going out again. Stepping into the bathroom he surveyed his image in the mirror. Today hadn't been such a bad day after all he decided. Apart from his one little set back, which he'd more than taken care of, the game was proceeding exactly as he'd anticipated. The FBI were no closer to finding him than he allowed them to be.   
  
Turning on the faucet he washed his hands and then bent to run some water over his face. Images of Martin's death came back to him and he smiled as he reached for a towel. He'd never had to punish a person in that manner before, preferring instead the intimacy that came from strangulation. Of being able to watch the life die from the person right in front of you and know it came from your hands. He'd always considered himself good with his hands.  
  
Drying himself off, he pondered. This had certainly been different, more… exhilarating. The sight of all that blood, the gurgling sound that came from watching someone drown from their own fluids. The actual feel of the knife tearing the flesh. It was messier certainly and ordinarily he was a man who abhorred any sort of disorder. But the sheer violence of the act was empowering.   
  
He loved it.  
  
He couldn't wait to do it again.   
  
He was incredibly sorry he'd lost his knife.   
  
With effort he brought himself back, pushed the images away, even though he wanted to play them over and over in his head. To relive them a thousand times. He could hardly start going on a stabbing spree at this point. How would that serve the game he'd committed himself to play. To change the rules now would be to forfeit his advantage. However next time. With a contented sigh he wandered back out into the living room. It never occurred to him that there wouldn't be a next time, in his mind he'd already won this round and was merely waiting for time to be called and the winner announced. And then there would be another city to move too, another victim to choose and new rules to be set.  
  
He thought next time they might include a lot more blood.  
  
* * *  
  
  



	9. Sunday*

SUNDAY  
  
Bobby stumbled barefoot and bare-chested into the dining room and sank into the nearest chair. He glanced at the clock on the microwave and noted that it was 5.20. The sun hadn't risen, wouldn't for awhile yet, but he made no move to turn on a light.   
  
Eugene was fast asleep on the couch, he could hear his steady intake of breath as he slept. Bobby envied his friend his dreams. He'd dreamt last night as well, but nothing that had let him breathe steadily. He wasn't one who could normally remember his dreams, when he woke up he was usually too busy focusing on the day ahead to worry about the night behind. But he remembered last night, with a clarity that still left him shaken. He remembered the destruction that had coursed through his mind, the fear that had coursed through his body. But mostly he remembered Lindsay.  
  
That wasn't unusual in and of itself, he allowed. If he was prone to dreaming about anything surely it would be his wife. But this was different, he'd had no control over this dream, it was almost as if it were taking him over, playing in his mind like a movie and forcing him to watch even though he desperately didn't want to.  
  
It was like seeing a car wreck he couldn't look away from.  
  
He'd seen her lying on the bed, hands bound, face bloodied and the sight had nearly crippled him. He couldn't, no WOULDN'T believe that there was anything more to his vision than just his imagination getting the better of him. But still the vividness of the memory… no not a memory a dream, he reminded himself, haunted him.  
  
Scared him.  
  
He pushed away from the table momentarily forgetting Eugene was sleeping in the other room. By the time he remembered it was already to late.   
  
"Bobby." Disoriented, Eugene pushed himself into sitting position, cursed as the blankets tangled around him. "What's the matter?" He noticed the darkness. "What time is it?"  
  
"It's early and there's nothing wrong. Go back to sleep."  
  
"You sure?" He tried to push the fog from his brain, waking was never his strong suit.  
  
"I'm positive. I just came out for a glass of water." He wasn't the least bit thirsty but he walked to the sink and filled a glass anyway. When he walked back out Eugene was still staring at him. "Go back to sleep, Eugene. I'm sorry I woke you." He made a production of taking a sip of the water, and was mildly proud of himself that he'd kept his hand from shaking.   
  
He walked up the hall and closed himself in his room, discarding the glass on the nightstand as he went. With a weary sigh he settled back against his pillow and readjusted it to try for a more comfortable position. If he tried he might still be able to catch a few more hours of sleep. He closed his eyes, kidded himself for all of five seconds and then opened them again. Sleep wouldn't come for him again that morning, if he was honest with himself, if sleep meant dreams like the one he'd just woken from he wasn't sure he ever wanted it to come again.  
  
* * *  
  
Casey Sullivan was tired. He was well into his tenth hour of a twelve hour shift and he was more than ready to go home. It seemed to him with every passing year it was getting harder to put in the hours and the attention the job required. In the fifteen years he'd been walking the streets as a beat cop, he'd seen his share of corruption, drugs and murder. He'd survived being shot once and lived through two marriages, he still wasn't sure which had been harder. Now as he rounded the bend and saw the pair of legs sticking out from behind the dumpster he gave another weary sigh.  
  
"Want me to take it?" Matt Larson, his probationary officer, stopped beside him. Unlike Casey energy was reverberating off him. It made Casey even more tired just looking at him.   
  
"No, you took the last one. I'll do it." He didn't enjoy the act of rousting the homeless out of whatever spot they'd chosen for themselves. And far preferred the night hours when, unless they were occupying private property he could leave them undisturbed. But it was after seven now, which meant the city was waking up, people were buying breakfast and moving around. And the simple fact was that street sleepers were a lot harder to overlook in the cold light of day.  
  
He banged on the edge of the dumpster as he approached. "Come on Buddy, time to get up." When he didn't get any response he raised his voice and moved a closer. "I said nap times over." Then he saw the blood. "Christ."  
  
"What is it?" Matt came jogging up and then skidded to halt behind him when Casey held out a hand. "Oh, wow."  
  
"Uh huh." Casey didn't hold Matt's wide eyed innocence, he'd seen too much before.  
  
"What are we going to do?"  
  
"Nothing." But keeping his distance from the bloodstains surrounding the body, he crouched down to get a better look. Taking in the glassy unfocused gaze of the long dead, the slack jaw frozen open in horror, and the glinting eye of the serpent that in an eerie sort of way seemed to be standing guard over the body. It gave Casey a chill.  
  
Getting to his feet, he looked away. "Better call in the Detectives Matt. This one's out of our hands."  
  
* * *  
  
He watched her on the monitor as she stirred from sleep into consciousness. He heard her involuntary groan as he scrambled the eggs, and keeping an eye on her as he reached for the toast he saw her lift her hands to the side of her swollen face. She hadn't stirred from unconsciousness last night when he'd lifted her from her spot on the floor and lay her back on the bed. Or when he'd bandaged her wounds and cleaned up the broken dishes and leftover food. But now as he entered the room tray in hand he found her watching him warily and with no small amount of fear.  
  
He felt and accepted the small shiver of excitement that look gave him. The simple fact was he liked the knowledge that people feared him. But he also felt a touch of sadness. He'd taken his anger out on Lindsay yesterday. She hadn't been the reason for his foul mood and he was sorry that she'd been the recipient. Truth be told, before that point he'd actually thought they'd been establishing some sort of connection. He certainly admired her spirit, the way she was handling the situation she was in. He enjoyed their daily chats, even if they were slightly one sided. He even liked the 'go screw yourself' looks she shot him when she thought he wasn't looking.   
  
Now seeing the wary, scared look she was giving him, the way she moved subtly up the bed to try to put more distance between them and her grimace of pain as she did so he thought he might have lost something important to the game. He didn't regret the beating, he'd certainly beat women before, Karen Whitmore, Mary-Anne Seymour, even his mother on the delightful day he'd finally worked up the courage to kill her. But in his mind they'd all done things to deserve it, they'd antagonised him, or ridiculed him or angered him. Lindsay had just been available too him.  
  
And so he felt bad.  
  
Which was one of the reasons he'd gone to so much trouble to make her such a nice breakfast. Surely she would see it for the peace offering it was. She was after all, he reasoned, a practical woman. She understood that sometimes people just lost their tempers. He was sure after he'd explained the situation to her there wouldn't be a problem. With a cheery and confident smile he closed the door behind him and set the tray on the bed in front of her.  
  
"I made you bacon and eggs." He kept the smile in place as he moved over to sit in his usual position in the blue chair. "I know you must be hungry so eat, eat." He made a small little waving motion with his hands.  
  
Her right eye was swollen shut, but her left conveyed the fear she couldn't entirely keep at bay as she slowly reached out for the rasher of bacon with hands that visibly shook. She didn't know what to expect, what her responses should be. But the scent of the food, was overwhelming her empty stomach. She broke off a small piece of meat and chewed it carefully using the left side of her jaw. Her hands were clean now, as too were the rest of her cuts, she could feel the soft padding of the bandage against her right cheek and eye, and it nauseated her to think of him washing and cleaning them while she slept.   
  
She ate a spoonful of eggs and chewed through the pain.   
  
"I bandaged your abrasions." He said.  
  
She nodded and even though the thought still sickened her, she thanked him because she could tell it was expected.   
  
He was happy with her manners. "I'm sorry that happened to you Lindsay. I wasn't angry with you and I had no right to take my temper out on you like that." He paused when her eyes met his. "To hurt you that way unnecessarily."  
  
Her gaze was steady but confused. "You said you were going to kill me?"  
  
"And I am." He watched the spoon she held, drop back onto the plate. Honesty was another one of his rules. "You die on Wednesday."  
  
Her mouth was so dry it felt like she'd been swallowing sand. "Why on Wednesday?"  
  
"Because that's when their time runs out. I gave them a deadline Lindsay, if they don't find you by then, then I win the game. The unfortunate result of that being that I have to kill you. And then I move to another city and start all over again."  
  
"What day is it today?" She'd totally lost track of time.  
  
"Sunday."  
  
"Oh." Her head was spinning. "Does taking a life really mean that little to you?"  
  
He gave her the only answer he could. "Yes."  
  
She wanted to ask why, but was very much afraid she wouldn't like the answer.   
  
He motioned towards her plate. "You're not eating, your food will go cold."  
  
She had no appetite left but forced herself to eat a mouthful of toast. "How will they know where to find me?" She had no idea herself where she was, she wasn't even sure if they were still in Boston.  
  
Edmund leaned back in his chair. "I've been leaving them notes. Little clues if you will. If they're as clever as they think they are, they'll put it together. If not…" He gave a small shrug and left the sentence incomplete.  
  
She couldn't comprehend any of this. "You're doing all of this so you can best the police?"  
  
"The police?" His laugh fell somewhere between a chuckle and a giggle "You think I'd go to this much trouble for the local police force?" He crossed his right ankle over his left knee and rested his hand on his leg. "You should give me more credit than that Lindsay, we're going up against the FBI"  
  
They weren't going up against anybody. But she thought it best not to make that distinction. He was watching her so she forced another spoonful of food down her throat. "The FBI?"  
  
"Yes indeed." He smiled pleased to finally be sharing some information. "Agent Mulder and his partner Agent Scully." He frowned. "I don't know very much about her yet. Maybe next time."  
  
His confidence in his ability to win, unnerved her a lot. She tried to keep her mind focussed. "You know them?"  
  
He nodded. "Agent Mulder played against me once before. I had a few unlucky turns that time." He gave his shoulders a small shrug, it was a move he tried very hard to keep casual. "It cost me a few years of my life."  
  
"You lost."  
  
Annoyance flashed dangerously through his eyes. "I was unlucky."  
  
"But…" She faltered, then bearing down on her courage, continued. "But if he succeeded last time, what makes you think he wont again?"  
  
Edmund leaned forward, lacing his fingers together. "Because I had a lot of years to plan, Lindsay, to correct my mistakes, to refine my technique. I assure you I have no intention of losing. Not this time, not any time in the future."  
  
She couldn't even make a pretence out of eating. She wanted to curl up in a ball and cry, she wanted to scream, she wanted to shake. She did none of those things. "I see."  
  
He looked at her with curiosity. He'd days ago given up on expecting any sort of big emotional responses out of her, she kept what she felt, her pain, her fear, her loneliness very much to herself. He considered it both brave and admirable. "Tell me what you're thinking?"  
  
She took a deep breath, and a chance. "I guess I'm hoping the other guy wins."  
  
He laughed at that, all traces of the annoyance he'd been feeling just moments ago, totally vanished. Her response was exactly what he'd expected from her and he was delighted. With her, with the game, with life in general. He stood and moved towards the door. "I have some things to attend too, I'll leave you too eat the rest of your breakfast in peace." And with a happy heart he let himself out of the room.  
  
* * *  
  
There were police cars blocking the mouth of the alley and police tape blocking the crime scene. Mulder used his badge to get past both. The odour, emanating from the dumpster was strong so both he and Scully gave it wide berth as they moved past uniformed officers and detectives in jackets and ties, to get a better look at the body. There was no doubt in his or anyone else's mind that this was Martin Caldow. His photo had been widely distributed and studied.  
  
"We're too late, Scully." He reached into the coroner's case at his feet for a pair of gloves, and slipped them on. "Edmund got to him first." He wanted to kick something. "God damn it."  
  
She was feeling the same kind of frustration but succeeded in hiding it a little better. "We don't know that it was Edmund, Mulder. Anyone could have done this."  
  
He shot her a disbelieving look. "You can't honestly believe that?"  
  
"I'm just saying we can't rule it out. Random acts of violence happen all the time. This could have been a simple mugging, or an altercation over a sleeping space. Anything."  
  
"So you think another homeless person did this?"  
  
"There's always that possibility."  
  
He wasn't used to giving people skeptical expressions, but he gave her one now. "Scully, Martin Caldow hasn't had a physical address since 1996, he's survived on the streets all that time, and now the day we release his photo for questing by the FBI he gets murdered and you think it could be a random mugging? What are the chances of that?"  
  
"Probably slim." She conceded, and watched him give her that small smile of triumph that he used whenever he thought he'd won an argument. "Look Mulder, if you ask my opinion, I'd say that in all likelihood Martin was killed by someone connected to this case. Either…." She shot him a warning look when he tried to interrupt. "By Edmund Harrison himself, or someone else he trusted enough to do it for him. But all I'm saying is, that until all investigative procedures have been carried out, there's also the possibility that his death, while coincidental, is not related at all."  
  
He waited her out "Finished?" He asked.  
  
She nodded.  
  
"Scully, look at that knife." He pointed towards Martins body, where the knife still protruded from his stomach. "That's a pretty expensive and distinctive piece wouldn't you say? How many muggers, or homeless people would use a knife like that to kill someone?" In the background a camera was flashing, as the crime scene investigator photographed the scene. "This was Edmund alright, he was leaving me a message. Letting me know that he was still one step ahead of me"  
  
Mike wandered over from where he'd been examining the scene. "What have we got?" Mulder asked him.  
  
Flicking through his notebook, Mike answered. "Uniforms called it in at around seven-twenty, they closed off the alley and when the detectives arrived commenced a sweep of the area, which didn't turn up anything. One of the detectives recognised the victim from those circulars we sent around and called me down. Preliminary time of death is listed somewhere between 5 pm and 8 pm. last night. But a more detailed exam of the body will have to be conducted to narrow that down. The coroner has given the okay for the body to be moved."  
  
Mulder nodded. "Okay, tell them they can take him away, but not to start on the autopsy."  
  
Mike frowned. "Why not?"  
  
Mulder turned hopeful eyes Scully's way. She let out a sigh "I knew that was coming."  
  
"What?" Mike asked, confused.  
  
Mulder turned back to him. "Agent Scully is also a medical doctor." He turned back towards her "What do you say Scully?"  
  
"I say, that Boston has some very adept coroners, all of which are capable of handling this autopsy."  
  
"But this is a federal case, so we have jurisdiction. You won't get any grief for stepping in."  
  
"Lucky me." She muttered.  
  
He reached out to pat her on the shoulder. "Follow those investigative avenues, Scully. Let me know what you come up with."  
  
"And while I'm doing that, what are you going to be doing?"  
  
He made a sweeping gesture with his arm. "I'll be following investigative avenues of my own."  
  
She gave a small shake of her head, started towards two paramedics who were patiently waiting beside the body. "Okay guys." She watched as they started to carefully bag the body. "I guess I'll be riding over with you."  
  
* * *  
  
She had to do something. She didn't know what, she didn't know how, but she knew she couldn't just sit around and wait to die. Even knowing the FBI were trying to find her, didn't give her much hope, today was Sunday and she had no concept of how late in the day it already was. So that meant they really only had two more days to find her, for all she knew the minute the clock struck midnight on Wednesday morning, Edmund would consider her time up. She couldn't take that chance, and so she was back to her original thought.   
  
She had to do something.  
  
She thought this might possibly be her only chance, as well. She wasn't sure whether it was intentional or not, but when he'd cleaned and bandaged her wounds earlier, he hadn't rebound her feet. Her hands were still locked together by the sturdy rope, it's rough edges rubbing against the open abrasions, but her feet were mercifully free. Taking advantage of that she pushed aside her breakfast tray and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Her aching muscles and throbbing head went unnoticed. It took her three attempts before she could stand, her centre of balance impaired both by the beating and from her lack of motion over the last few days. When she took her first tentative steps she swayed like a drunk after a night with the bottle. But still she kept going.  
  
When she made it over to the table she stopped and lent against it for balance. She paused there for a moment to rest and then stumbling, and swaying again, made the rest of the journey to the door. She tried the handle and found it securely locked, and even though she'd known she would, tears of disappointment pricked at her eyes. Turning her head, to rest it against the rough foam covering of the wall, she tried to think. She needed a plan, obviously she wasn't just going to be able to walk out the door, and there wasn't any other apparent means of escape.   
  
She scanned the room with her good eye looking for something, anything that could be used as a weapon. She briefly considered her breakfast tray, but dismissed the idea, the light plastic material wouldn't be of any use. Then she thought about the lamp, but even from her position by the door, she could see the bolt running from the base into to the table. There was no way she'd be able to remove it. Then her gaze settled on the rope. The thick cord that had been used to tie her ankles was laying neatly in a loop on the floor at the base of her bed. She weighed the possibilities. It appeared to be her only hope, maybe if she could get behind him when he came through the door, then with leverage and a lot of luck, she might be able to get the advantage. He wasn't much taller than she was and even though she knew he was strong, if she took him by surprise and managed to cut off his airwave, she'd be able to escape.  
  
As plans went, it had a lot of flaws but she couldn't think of a better one. With more effort than she would have liked she bent down to retrieve the rope. Pushing herself up she once again looked at the lamp. Her advantage would work better if he couldn't see her at all. Making her way back over to the table, she fumbled around the base until she found the power switch, and bathed the room in blackness.  
  
* * *  
  
Mulder looked over the now nearly deserted crime scene. The body had been removed, the crime scene investigators had moved away to process what small amount of evidence they'd collected. Photo's had been taken and prints had been dusted for. Now all that remained was a large red stain on already dirty concrete. He crouched down beside the dumpster, long ago having stopped smelling the pungent scent.   
  
"There has to be more." He muttered to himself.  
  
"What's that?" Mike asked, from beside him.  
  
"I said there has to be more. It's nearly lunch time and we still haven't received our clue. Maybe it's here."  
  
"Maybe the body is the clue."  
  
Mulder turned to look at him. "What sort of clue is that? We already knew Marty was involved. That's nothing new. How does finding the body here tell us anything new about where Lindsay's being held." He looked around again, as if something would magically appear to him. "What are we missing?"  
  
"Maybe Agent Scully will turn up something in the autopsy." Mike suggested. "Or with the knife. You have to admit it's an unusual piece"  
  
"Yeah." Mulder stood again. "Have we turned up anything on the search for the house?"  
  
Mike shook his head. "Not that I know of, but there are a lot of records to search through."  
  
"Just another thing we have to wait on." Mulder looked back at the blood stain  
  
"I know." Mike was feeling the same frustration. "Agent Mulder…." He paused and waited until he had Mulder's attention. "Don't you think we should tell Bobby about this? It's going to be picked up by the news soon, they're paying a lot of attention to this case. I think it would be better if he heard it from us." When Mulder didn't answer straight away, he continued. "I can go over there. I haven't been telling him much, but he has questions, you know?"  
  
Mulder nodded. Normally he would have suggested this himself, but he was getting so wrapped up in this case it was getting impossible to see outside it's boundaries. "You're right. Come on I'll drive."  
  
Mike blinked, surprised. "You're coming too?"  
  
"Yeah, I might be able to answer some of his questions." He turned to lead the way out of the alley. "And then hopefully when Scully's finished with the autopsy she can answer some of mine."  
  
* * *  
  
It took a moment for her vision to adjust when she flicked off the light. That was why she told herself she hadn't noticed it at first. She'd been focussed on the door, waiting for him to enter. But she noticed it now.   
  
The sliver of light, in what should have been a pitch black room.  
  
At first she just stared at it, not comprehending what it was, what it could mean. But then realisation dawned. And with it came hope. Even after she realised what it signified she didn't move. Her heart beat in her chest treble time, her good eye glistened, and nerves skittered along her spine. Through that sliver of light was the outside world, and the outside world meant freedom.  
  
But still she didn't move. Just stood there staring, not sure if it was just wishful thinking and any minute she'd come to her senses and it would be gone, and with it the last thin thread of belief that she'd actually make it home alive. She closed her eyes to the light, willing it to still be there when she opened them again, and feeling her heart skip a beat when it actually was.   
  
What should she do? She'd always been a decisive person. Always had the strength to go after what she wanted. But layer by layer he'd been stripping her of that strength, until she thought she might not have any left. Physically or mentally. What if this was some sort of test? Her head whipped from side to side, as if he might be watching her, pain exploding in her mind as it did. This was a possibility of escape that she hadn't counted on, throwing the rope on the ground she turned towards the light.  
  
With slow, steady steps she walked towards the wall, stopping when she felt her feet leave the softness of the rug and come to rest on the cold cement. There was a tremble in her bound hands as she used them to reach for the wall, to feel the texture of the padding. Then they came in contact with something sharp, it nicked her flesh and she pulled away instinctively. Taking a deep breath she leant in and using her good eye studied it closer, it was a fragment of her breakfast dish, that must have broken away when he'd thrown it the day before. It was lodged in the join of two of the sheets of foam. She hadn't even realised they'd joined. How could she not have known that?   
  
She brought her hands back up wary now of the sharp edges, and pried it from where it had become lodged under one of the staples. With fingers that were far from steady she pulled the staple the rest of the way out. More light flooded into the room. She had a window. A choked sound that was halfway between a sob and a laugh burst from her. She had a window!  
  
Slowly, and carefully she peeled the foam away a little more and had to blink when more light streamed in. It was high, she had to reach up to lay her hands against the cool glass barrier and she wanted to weep. When her hands travelled further along, underneath the foam, out of view and came into contact with the steel bars she did. Her hands gripped the bar to give her more leverage and she stood on the tips of her toes to see outside and thought that this must surely be the cruellest form of torment.   
  
Focussing now on the outside she took in her surroundings, she may not be able to get out but that didn't mean someone couldn't get to her if she could just get their attention. There was some sort of garden just outside the window, she could just make out a small neatly trimmed bush and though gardening wasn't a hobby of hers she recognised the flower. She had roses outside her window. That seemed like it should cheer her but it didn't. Looking beyond them she could see the lawn, and knew she must be in the basement. It had never occurred to her before where she was. Where he went when he left the room. But now she could see grass, she could see a street, and hear the faint din of traffic.   
  
She thought if she could hear that then surely someone must be able to hear her. She needed to break the glass. Ignoring the headache she looked around for something to use, but couldn't find anything. It didn't matter to her, she'd use her fists if she had too. Straining her calves to get maximum height, she swung back her hands and brought them hurtling towards the glass. It didn't break, although she thought her knuckles might have. Still she didn't stop, pounding against it with a desperation that consumed her. If she just kept going surely it would have to give soon. She swung back again……… and froze.  
  
There was now a pair of feet on the lawn.  
  
Followed soon by a pair of knees.  
  
Then a face, and a pair of eyes so cold they could bore right through you.   
  
With a strangled cry she staggered back from the window, and fell onto the bed. Somewhere in what seemed like the distance she heard a door open and close. But it wasn't her door. Still her eyes stayed peeled too it, knowing it was just a matter of time before it was. He breath lodged in her throat and fear clawed in her belly.  
  
And she waited.  
  
* * *  
  
When the first knock went unanswered, neither of them were particularly worried. After a polite pause and a second louder knock, also went unanswered Mike started to get a little concerned. When the third knock was met with silence he was ready to break down the door.   
  
"They should be in there." He leant both hands against the door to look through the peephole, but since they only really worked one way, and he was on the wrong side, he was totally taken by surprise when the door suddenly opened and he was propelled forward. Mulder reached out a hand to steady him before he went crashing into Bobby.  
  
Finding his footing, and trying to regain a little of his composure Mike muttered a quiet thanks to Mulder. But then when he turned to greet Bobby and got a good look at the other man, he froze. He'd seen him last night, had talked to him, and while Bobby had seemed, quiet and cloaked in sadness, neither attribute surprising considering what he was experiencing, he hadn't looked like this. The Bobby that stood before them now was pale, almost white, the almost translucent colour of his skin offset by the deep black smudges under his eyes. His cheeks took on a sunken look, and his hair as if it had a mind of it's own, spiked out in every direction. He looked like one good tap would send him flying.  
  
"Bobby are you alright?"  
  
"Sure." Leaving them to shut the door, Bobby shuffled back over to his chair. "Sorry I took so long, I didn't hear you."  
  
That that wasn't even possible in an apartment this size, just gave Mike even more room for concern. He cleared a space to sit, by moving some newspapers to the floor. "You don't look so well, Bobby."  
  
Bobby lifted a hand and waved away there concern "Bad night." He said, and left it at that.  
  
"Where's Eugene?"  
  
Bobby looked around blankly as if realising for the first time that his friend wasn't there. "Oh, um I think he went home to get more clothes. He should be back soon."  
  
Mulder sat down next to Mike, and leaned forward. "Mr Donnell there's been a turn of events in your wife's case."  
  
Bobby's gaze locked on his "What sort of turn?"  
  
He really had been out of this field too long, Mulder thought. In his current line, he didn't get much cause to sit with family and explain the reason he couldn't find their loved ones. He didn't have to break news about leads that were meant to turn up something positive, instead turning negative. To watch worry in the eyes opposite him, war with the small glimmer of hope only the really desperate continue to feel. He remembered back to Scully's abduction and recalled the feelings all too well. And he wished he could bring better news.   
  
"Martin Caldow, who we believe was working in conjunction with Edmund Harrison was found murdered this morning in an alley on the East side of the city."  
  
He watched the hope in Bobby's eyes lose the battle and the desperation sink in. "Murdered how?"  
  
Mulder paused, then knowing he'd find out on the news anyway, continued. "He was stabbed repeatedly and left to bleed to death."  
  
If possible Bobby's face turned whiter, his hand began to shake "Stabbed?"  
  
"Bobby?" Mike stood and moved a bit closer, his friends extreme pallor was worrying him.  
  
"Get him a glass of water." Mulder suggested.   
  
"Right." Mike was off like a shot, grateful to be doing something.  
  
"Mr Donnell?" Mulder said. Bobby was looking right at him, his gaze unfocused. He tried again "Bobby? What is it?"  
  
"You're sure he was stabbed" Bobby asked. Mike came back in and handed him the glass.  
  
"Positive. Why?"  
  
"No reason. I just had a dream last night…." He shook his head. "No reason." He repeated. He wasn't paying any attention to the glass Mike had pressed into his hands, and as such he was surprised when some of it spilled onto his leg. He righted it then placed it on the floor.  
  
"Tell me about the dream."  
  
It was all still so vivid in his head. Like a movie that just kept playing over and over. He didn't even have to close his eyes to see it. "I dreamt I saw Lindsay, she was….. all beaten." He swallowed hard and regretted putting the water down, he wanted something to do with this hands but he'd already forgotten where he'd put it. "She was being threatened with a knife. When you mentioned the stabbing, well….."  
  
"It was probably just a coincidence." Mike murmured.  
  
"Yeah." Bobby clung to that, like a drowning man to a life rope. "I mean dreams like that wouldn't be unusual would they?"  
  
"Maybe not." Mulder answered.  
  
"It's just my imagination getting the better of me." Bobby continued, trying more than anything to convince himself. "Lindsay's going to be fine, she's not hurt. And the snake knife…. well I'm probably just turning my opinion of this guy into the weapon. I mean dreams do weird things like that, right?"  
  
Mulder looked at Mike, Mike looked at Mulder, then they both looked at Bobby. "The what knife?" Mike asked.  
  
"The snake knife." Bobby looked for and located the glass. Picking it up, he drank deeply, the convincing was starting to work.  
  
"Can you describe it for us?" Mulder asked.  
  
"Why?"   
  
"Please Bobby, just tell us what it looked like?" Mike took out a pad and pen, ready to take notes.  
  
He had absolutely no understanding of what they seemed so worried about "It was big, with a silver handle, and there was a pattern of a snake sort of wrapped around it."  
  
"Anything else?" Mike asked, voice strained.   
  
"Yeah." Bobby frowned at the tension emanating from the two men. "The eye of the snake was a red stone, it looked….. I don't know, evil. And it was one of those ones where you push the button to get the blade out. It was a really long blade" Memories of it now, still had him shivering.   
  
Mulder leaned forward in his chair, his intensity when he looked at Bobby, palpable. "Did he hurt her with it?"  
  
Bobby drew himself back from the memory. "I don't know."  
  
"What do you mean you don't know? This is really important, I need you to think"  
  
He didn't want to think about it. Couldn't understand why he was being asked too. "I seriously don't know. He was moving towards her with the knife, I didn't even realise it was her until I saw her reflection. You know how your mind plays tricks on you in dreams. But then I saw her and she was all bruised and bloody and the knife was moving closer, and next thing I know I'm sitting up in bed."  
  
"Mr Donnell, I'm going to need you to come down to the field office with me. I'd like you to help us put together a sketch of that knife you saw."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"We'll explain when we get there." He looked at Bobby's rumpled clothes and bare feet. "You should get dressed."  
  
Bobby's eyebrows knitted in confusion, he wasn't processing any of this. "Eugene'll be back soon."  
  
"It's alright Bobby." Mike reassured him. "I'll call him and tell him where you'll be." He watched as Bobby stumbled off towards the bed room and immediately turned towards Mulder. "What the hell's going on?" His voice was slightly higher pitched than normal.   
  
"I don't know yet." Mulder answered. He had some theories of his own but he wasn't at all sure the detective would accept them.  
  
"This makes no sense to me." Mike continued, as if Mulder hadn't spoken. "How can Bobby see the knife that killed Martin in a dream about Lindsay? There can't possibly be two knives out there that look like that can there?"  
  
"No I don't think there were two knives."  
  
"Then what… How?" He immediately became suspicious "You don't think Bobby had any involvement with this do you?"  
  
"No."  
  
Mike rolled right over the top of him "Because I'll tell you right now….."  
  
"Detective!" Mike blinked in surprise, and quieted. "I don't think he was involved. I'm following a hunch, one I'll let all of you in on when I get a bit more to go on." He waited until Bobby came back out. "Lets get going."  
  
* * *  
  
He kept her waiting.   
  
He understood that by doing so he was gaining a psychological advantage. When someone specialised in gamesmanship like he did, advantage was everything. Deciding it was best to give her a little time to consider her actions before he discussed them with her, he sat down at this computer. With all the cleaning up he'd had to do after Martin last night, he hadn't had a chance to check his e-mail and Agent Mulder's progress. Seeing as he had a few moments on his hands, he thought now might be the perfect time.  
  
Double clicking on the little green icon, he opened the latest report and scanned. This one was a lot shorter than it's predecessor and held less emotion. They had a suspect in custody, one Francis Turner. Edmund already knew that from his conversation with Martin. Apparently Mulder thought he could connect a straight line from Turner to Martin to him, well they'd just see about that wouldn't they? Edmund had never even met Francis Turner and since Martin was now dead, he thought that chain had very much been broken. There were a few other details about some interviews they'd conducted, and some evidence they'd collected in their search for Martin, nothing that bothered Edmund terribly much. Satisfied he switched of the computer and glanced at his watch.  
  
It had been half an hour since he'd caught Lindsay trying to smash the glass of the window. More than enough time he thought, for her to have considered the ramifications of her indiscretion. With measured steps he descended the stairs to the basement and opened the door. He found her huddled in the far corner of the bed, watching him intently as he entered. This time he didn't gaze upon her with the laughter and delight he'd been feeling this morning but with disappointment.  
  
"You've let me down Lindsay." He didn't yell, or rant or rave, but kept his voice at an even keel. Knowing by doing so he was keeping her on edge. Flicking on the lamp, he carried the staple gun he'd retrieved from upstairs and walked over to repair the foam she'd ripped away from the wall, until it was seamless again. Without the sunlight streaming through, the room was dim and somehow more lonely. He much preferred that atmosphere. Ignoring her for the moment, but well aware of her watching his every move, he placed the staple gun on the side table and bent to retrieve the rope she'd discarded on the floor. Holding it in both hands, he gave it a few quick tugs as he straightened, catching her eye as he did so, and making sure his point got across.   
  
He was still in charge.  
  
He advanced upon her slowly, rope still in hand, cutting what he hoped was a very menacing figure. When she scrunched up further into the corner drawing up her legs in defense of her body, he was pleased. He could see fear when she looked at him, and the memories of her earlier beating, the pale swollen flesh of her face was almost the same color as the bandages that covered it. In his mind she looked like she understood the depth of her betrayal and was preparing for her punishment.  
  
Reaching her, he pulled both her feet until her legs were stretched out in front of her, and quickly and deftly wrapped the rope around her ankles twice before securing the knot. The rope cut into abrasions on her ankles, still fresh from being tied before, and if he pulled the knot just a little bit tighter than earlier to prove a point, he justified it as no less than she deserved. She didn't fight him as he did this, pain, fear, and the certain knowledge that if she did, and she didn't win the battle, she'd be dying a lot earlier than Wednesday, kept her still. When he was finished he surveyed his handiwork, and being satisfied with it took a deliberate step backwards.   
  
He fixed her with a cold stare. "I thought we had an understanding"  
  
She certainly couldn't think what that understanding could be, didn't remember agreeing to anything, so wisely she kept silent.   
  
Apparently not expecting an answer from her, he continued. "It appears I haven't explained the rules of the game to you properly." He walked over to the chair and settled himself on it, which gave her a momentary feeling of relief. "I'll summarise because the rules aren't that hard, and quite frankly I thought you should understand them by now. It's the FBI's role to find you by a predetermined time limit. My role is to provide them with clues, some helpful, some misleading to either aid or hinder their progress. When the time limit expires, depending on who's played the game more successfully, you either go home or you don't."  
  
He pulled at one of the colourful cushions behind him and after fluffing it, settled more comfortably against it. "You have the easiest role out of anybody Lindsay. Your only job, for want of a better term, is to stay in this room, until the duration of the game. Do you think you can handle that?"  
  
Holding up a finger to silence her, when she would have answered, he continued. "Just to continue on this vein of giving you information, let me just tell you what'll happen if your answer is no." He lent forward in the chair. "In the unlikely event that that is your answer and you refuse to cooperate, I'll be forced to kill you now, I'll go into hiding until I find another suitable candidate and Agents Mulder and Scully will go home." He spread his hands wide. "And this entire thing will have been a complete waste of time. So what do you say, should we continue the game?"  
  
She was visibly trembling, her teeth when she closed them chattered. "Yes."  
  
"Splendid. I'll expect no more behaviour like you exhibited this morning then." Rising he walked back over to the bed, and watched her flinch away from him in fear. He reached right past her and retrieved her breakfast tray. "I'm not going to hurt you Lindsay. You received a beating yesterday that you didn't deserve. You wont receive one today that you do, so we'll consider ourselves even. Next time you wont be so fortunate."  
  
He picked up the staple gun and put it on the tray and left her alone again.  
  
* * *  
  
She was up to her elbows in intestines, literally, when her cell phone rang. Cursing softly she extracted both hands and peeled off one blood covered glove. Fishing around in her pocket, she pulled out the phone and hit the answer button. "Scully."  
  
"Hey Scully, it's me."  
  
She let out an impatient breath. "I figured that Mulder."  
  
"Right, listen what are you doing right now?"  
  
"Oh you know, just kicking back with a nice glass of wine and a good book. I'm doing an autopsy Mulder, what did you think I'd be doing?"  
  
He paused "I thought you might be finished by now."  
  
She looked down at the large cavity in the chest area of the corpse in front of her. "Not yet, no."  
  
"Have you freed the knife yet?"  
  
She had another sarcastic response at the ready, but decided it wasn't worth the effort. "Yes. It's at the lab."  
  
Another pause. "Ok well we've had a little development since you left, that I want to run by you. How long do you think you'll be?"  
  
"I'm not sure, maybe half and hour."  
  
"Alright, I'm at the field office, can you swing by the lab and see if they've finished with the knife on your way back, and if they have bring it with you? I'll meet you back here."  
  
"Mulder, what's this all about?"  
  
"I'll tell you when you get here." The dial tone on the other end of the line, told her he'd already disconnected.   
  
With a shake of her head she pocketed the phone again, and mentally waved goodbye to the lunch she was hoping to have when she'd finished. Reaching for another glove, she decided Mulder could make it up to her at dinner.  
  
* * *  
  
It was closer to an hour before Scully made her way into the conference room of the Boston field office. When she did, she was met by a group of people gathered around the table. Mulder, Adam and Doug sat on one side, in the seat directly opposite Adam sat Bobby Donnell, he was flanked on both sides by Eugene Young and Rebecca Washington. Mike was sitting beside Eugene.  
  
"Mulder" She said with a small movement of her head. "Can I talk to you for a moment?"  
  
She waited until he came over to her, before pulling him out into the corridor and closing the door behind them. "What's going on here?"  
  
"Scully, the most unbelievable thing's happened."  
  
She raised an eyebrow. "That's quite a statement coming from you Mulder."  
  
He gave a quick shake of his head. "Okay, that was just an expression but anyway….."  
  
"What are all those people doing in the conference room?"  
  
"I'm trying to tell you." He handed her a sheet of paper, she didn't even know he'd been carrying. "Take a look at this."  
  
She looked at the sketch of the knife, with a confused frown. "That's really good Mulder, but I've seen the knife before. In fact…." She held up her own hand, holding the evidence bag with the actual knife in it and gave it a small jiggle for effect.   
  
"Guess who provided us with this sketch, Scully."  
  
"Who?"  
  
He leaned in closer until they were only inches apart. "Bobby Donnell."  
  
This time both eyebrows went up. "The husband?"  
  
Mulder's head was nodding so fast, she thought it was a wonder he didn't get a headache. "He said he saw it in a dream he had last night about Lindsay. So I asked him to come down here so we could get a sketch of exactly what he saw and wallah." He waved the sheet of paper in front of her.  
  
"What else did he say?"  
  
Mulder was practically bouncing on the balls of his feet, itching to get back in the room. "I don't know, his friends found out he was here, and refused to let us speak to him without being present. They only just arrived a few minutes before you." He opened the door and motioned for her to precede him. "Lets find out hey?"  
  
She noticed as she walked back into the room and sat down opposite Mike that someone had taken the time to turn the board that held all the evidence around, so that it faced the wall. She kept the evidence bag in her lap, out of view of everyone else.   
  
Mulder sat down beside her. "Okay now that everyone's here, Bobby why don't you tell us more about this dream? Start at the beginning."  
  
Bobby took a deep breath, there were still so many things he didn't understand. Things that hadn't yet been explained to him. Why his dream was so important was one of them, but obviously it was or all these people wouldn't be here, and he thought that as long as it helped Lindsay, that was really all he needed to know. For the time being anyway.  
  
Still he felt a little embarrassed to be recalling a dream. "The whole thing was kind of strange."  
  
"How so?"  
  
"Well it started off with all of these natural disasters, floods, fire, earthquakes, but they were all happening at the same time until I was the only one left alive. One moment I was out there all alone and the next I was in this room."  
  
Mulder laced his fingers together and rested his hands on the table. "The room where you saw the knife?"  
  
"Yes." Bobby nodded. "But I didn't see it at first. I was on this bed, my hands and feet were tied together. I was trying to look around the room, to find out where I was."  
  
"Can you describe for us what you saw?"  
  
"Umm." He closed his eyes to concentrate better. "The walls were dark grey or maybe black it was hard to tell."  
  
"Painted?"  
  
"I don't think so." He opened his eyes, blinked. "They were textured, sort of bubbly. I don't know how to describe it. There was a table with a lamp on it….."  
  
"Was the lamp on or off?"  
  
"On, it was the only light in the room. And beside it was this blue armchair."  
  
"Was there anything else?"  
  
"There were cushions on the chair, a red and a yellow one. And the bed."  
  
"Okay." Mulder leaned forward. "So you looked around the room, what happened next?"  
  
Bobby took a drink from the glass of water in front of him. "That was when I noticed the knife. Someone picked it up and the light caught it. It'd been sitting on the table."  
  
"Did you see who?"  
  
He shook his head. "No not really. At first I was focussed on the knife, it had that strange pattern on the handle that I told you about."  
  
"This one?" Mulder slid the piece of paper across the table until it was directly in front of Bobby.  
  
Bobby didn't need to look at it again to know what he'd seen. "Yes. He was moving it around and the light caught it at one stage and it shone in his eyes." He looked into Mulder's now. "That's all I saw of him, just his eyes, they were cold and angry at the same time, I'll never forget it."  
  
"What happened then?"  
  
"He hit a switch that released the blade, it was long, and the way he held it, I could see my reflection, but…."  
  
"But what?" Mulder asked when he paused.  
  
"But it wasn't my reflection, I mean it should have been because I was seeing everything, but it was Lindsay's. She was all bruised, there was blood on her face…." He heard Rebecca gasp beside him, the only other sound in the room. "And then he moved the knife and it was coming towards me….. her. And the next thing I know I'm sitting up in bed."   
  
There was total silence around the table when he stopped talking. Mulder gave Scully a little nudge and she lifted up the evidence bag and placed in the centre of the table. "Mr Donnell, it this the knife you saw?"  
  
The blade was closed now, but the knife looked no less menacing. Bobby reached out to touch it through the plastic. "Yes." He looked over at Scully. "Where'd you find it?"  
  
"It was the weapon used last night to kill Martin Caldow."  
  
The silence was broken now by everyone talking at once. After several failed attempts to quiet them down, Mulder fell back on the tried and true method of a really loud whistle.  
  
"What does this mean?" Bobby asked.  
  
"We don't know." He needed to talk his theories through with Scully before he voiced them to everyone else. "It could be as Detective McGuire said this morning, a coincidence."  
  
"Or?"  
  
Mulder gave a small nod of his head. "Or it could be you've given us an actual description of where your wife's being held. We're going to follow this through, and see where it leads us."  
  
"Agent Mulder, is Lindsay still alive?" It was the hardest question he'd ever asked in his life. "I mean…." He gestured helplessly towards the knife.  
  
"I'm sure she is." Mulder waited until Bobby looked back at him and offered what reassurance he could. "I can't guarantee he wont hurt her, but I really believe he wont kill her before the deadline he's given us."  
  
"What can we do?" Eugene asked.  
  
"Nothing." Mulder watched Eugene frown. "I know that isn't what you want to hear, but right now the best thing you can do is give us some time to determine what, if anything, this means." He looked back at Bobby. "But if you remember anything else or if you have another dream, you should contact us straight away"  
  
* * *  
  
Eugene and Rebecca sat at the kitchen table and watched Bobby pace. For a person who had hardly moved in days he was certainly making up for lost time. He moved from one end of the living room too the other, stopping to turn only when a wall impeded his forward motion.   
  
"Bobby maybe you should sit down." Rebecca suggested, for the third time.  
  
"I can't." He had too many thoughts and feelings coursing through him.   
  
"You're going to wear yourself out"  
  
"What if it's true?" He stopped walking and turned to face them.  
  
"We don't know that Bobby." Eugene said.  
  
"But the knife. I saw the knife Eugene."  
  
"I know." Eugene nodded. "But there could be some simple explanation. Let the FBI work it through."  
  
"I can't." He said again, and sank down onto the nearest chair. "It's just….." He let the sentence trail off.  
  
Rising, Rebecca walked over and sat beside him. "Just what, Bobby?"  
  
Not wanting to meet her eyes, he looked down at her hands. "There was something I didn't tell them before."  
  
"What?"  
  
Whoever said confession was good for the soul, obviously never had anything difficult to confess. "At the end of my dream, when the knife was coming towards her, I thought I heard Lindsay call out my name." He looked at her now, with anguished eyes. "What if it really was some sort of message to me? Then she was asking for my help, when I woke up. And I don't know what he did with that knife." He dropped his head into his hands. "Oh God."  
  
She put her arm around him too offer comfort. "Eugene's right Bobby, we need to let the FBI work this out. But if it turns out it is real. Well you gave them the information, if it leads them to Lindsay any faster, then you helped them. You should hold onto that."  
  
"I'm scared, Bec."  
  
She moved her hand over his back, in a soothing motion. "I know you are Bobby, we all are. But lets not give up on Lindsay yet."  
  
"What happens if I go to sleep tonight and I don't have another dream about her? What will that mean?"  
  
He was asking her questions, she didn't have any answers too. "I don't know." The one thing she did know was that she was staying here tonight. There was no way she was leaving while Bobby was in this condition, it looked like Eugene was just going to have to sleep on the floor.  
  
* * *  
  
"So what's your take on all this Scully?"  
  
It hadn't taken them long to get away from the field office after their discussion with Bobby. Mulder had had a short talk with Eugene before Mike had offered to drive them all home. It had taken Doug no more than five seconds after the door had closed behind them before he started making pointed remarks about the FBI investigating peoples imaginations, and only five seconds after that for Mulder to determine that any work they were going to get done wasn't going to happen in his presence. So grabbing what files they needed he and Scully headed back to the hotel. With one short stop first for food, which Scully had insisted he buy, because he'd prevented her from eating lunch. He wasn't really sure when he'd done that, but he didn't want to argue.  
  
So now they were in her hotel room, eating Chinese, from white cardboard containers. Scully sat at the small desk, her reading glasses perched on her nose, chopsticks in one hand, a container in the other. "I don't know Mulder, it sounds a little far fetched."  
  
He allowed a hint of a smile. "Scully, if I had a dollar for every time I'd heard you say that, I could probably retire by now." He was stretched out on the bed, surrounded by files. Having long ago decided using chop sticks was a good way to go hungry, he was devouring his meal with a fork.  
  
She raised her eyebrows so they disappeared behind the rim of her glasses. "You asked me for my opinion."  
  
"You don't think it's at least plausible?"   
  
She let out a small sigh, and put her food down beside her. "There doesn't seem to be much basis to the facts."  
  
"He had a lot of details, Scully."  
  
"Most of which can't be substantiated."  
  
"There's the knife."  
  
"Yes there is." She conceded with a nod "And I'll admit that's intriguing, but Mulder there was also a lot of doomsday talk about fire and floods. None of which I recall getting any reports of happening last night."  
  
"Jesus Scully, basic psych one-o-one. His wife's been taken, could possibly be killed, you don't think the guys mind can reinterpret that to the world crashing down around him?"  
  
"Well if his mind reinterpreted that, how do we know it didn't reinterpret everything else too?"  
  
He reached over and put his empty container on the floor. "Because that was the only part of the dream that was open to interpretation."  
  
"But that still doesn't explain why he'd have the dream in the first place."  
  
He pushed a couple of files out of the way so he could stretch out more comfortably. "Well I've got a theory about that."  
  
Her lips quirked. "Well gee if I had a dollar…."  
  
He rolled his eyes. "Seriously. I was speaking to Eugene before they left, he said that this isn't the first trauma they've gone through. Apparently Lindsay was stabbed a few years ago, Bobby found her in their office and got her to hospital in time, but it was pretty touch and go there for awhile. Then not long after that he was held hostage by a past client, at gunpoint." He gave a small shrug. "Maybe this is just one tragedy too many. Maybe all these close calls have helped them form some sort of…. I don't know, nexus or something."  
  
"A nexus?"   
  
"It's just a theory."  
  
"Mulder I'm not saying it's not possible, and it's certainly worth exploring. It's just…."  
  
"What?"  
  
She sighed. "I think you've been floundering in this case a little. You feel out of your element, and this theory brings it closer to being an X File. Which brings it into your comfort zone, and I just wouldn't want you to focus all your energy on that theory for that reason, to the exclusion of all the other evidence we've already collected."  
  
He nodded. "Fair enough." Locating the last of the egg rolls he took a bite. "So how'd you go with the autopsy today, turn up anything?"  
  
She reached over and plucked one of the files from the bed. "Not really." Opening it, she flicked through a couple of pages. "The victim was stabbed seven times in the stomach and chest area, the second and fourth wounds punctured the lungs, the last one entered the body between the fifth and sixth ribs where the knife got lodged in the bones. From the way the bones were fractured it looks like the knife was twisted, possibly in an attempt to remove it, or just as a form of torture."  
  
Mulder grimaced. "Ouch."  
  
"Uh-huh. Death wasn't instantaneous, I estimate it took him approximately three hours to bleed to death, which happened about 8.30 last night. Making the time of the attack between 5.30 and 6."  
  
"Okay, well I had Agent Griffin canvas the area, nobody saw anything or reported anything, but from the body's position behind the dumpster that's not surprising. Martin was killed on the opposite side of the city to that which he usually hangs out, which leads me to think Edmund picked the location."  
  
"Probably because it's further away from him as well."  
  
He nodded. "That would make sense, we'll have to follow that up."  
  
"We didn't receive a clue today."  
  
He'd just been thinking the same thing. "I know."  
  
"What do you think that means?"  
  
"I don't know." He settled back against the pillow. "It could be because it's Sunday and the mail doesn't get delivered."  
  
"Which would mean something if any of the others had come by mail."  
  
"Okay, that's a good point." He shrugged "Maybe he didn't want to risk being out, so close to the murder, or maybe he was relying on Martin to deliver all of the messages. At this point I'm just not sure."  
  
She rose to gather their empty containers and throw them in the bin. "Mulder how certain are you really, that he won't kill her ahead of time?"  
  
It seemed everyone wanted the answer to that question. He just wished he had it.  
  
* * *  
  



	10. Monday*

MONDAY  
  
It wasn't cold but he was shivering. A fine sheen of sweat covered his body, little fingers of fear danced across his skin. His breathing was heavy, his chest heaving in an attempt to consume as much oxygen as he could. With one unsteady hand he reached over and with more luck than style, managed to find the switch for the lamp and turn it on. The light that flowed into the room wasn't bright, but still he blinked against it and shaded his eyes.   
  
He had a headache. A dull throbbing pain, that made him forget temporarily what had woken him in the first place. Flopping back against the pillows, he used both hands to rub at his eyes, exhaustion, both mental and physical, caused his limbs to be heavy and his mind foggy. With a weary sigh he threw both feet over the side of the bed and after sitting for a moment, rose to his feet and made his way into the bathroom.  
  
The light here was brighter, and he squinted against it as he took in his reflection in the mirror. He almost didn't recognise his own image. His normally clear blue eyes, were now a cloudy grey, and after a moment he gave up searching for any sign of white, amongst the red that ringed the irises. His hair spiked up in all directions, and when he ran his hand along his jaw and felt the rough abrasion of stubble there, he winced. Lindsay would never let him go this long without shaving.  
  
Lindsay.  
  
Just the thought of her name brought images streaming into his mind. Sunlight. A Window. Flowers. Pain. Trepidation. Hope.  
  
Fear.  
  
He pushed away from the sink as more images assaulted him. He was thrown off balance momentarily and staggered until he found his footing, finally finding his way into the living room and nearly falling again as his foot collided with something. Only quick reflexes stopped him from pitching over head first. Grabbing onto the arm of a chair he held himself upright.  
  
Eugene gave a grunt, winded from where Bobby's foot had collided with his ribs. "God." With eyes that were slow to focus he glanced at his watch, it read 4.59. "Bobby is that you?"  
  
"Eugene?" Momentarily confused that Eugene's voice hadn't come from the body that was just starting to stir on the sofa, Bobby glanced down. "What are you doing down there?"  
  
Still rubbing his ribs, Eugene sat up, dragging the blanket with him. "Rebecca slept over, what are you doing up?"  
  
"Ugh." Rebecca stretched on the chair until her toes curled. She didn't know what time it was but she knew it was still dark. It took her mind two seconds to process that Eugene was talking before she went on full alert. "What's happened? Is there news? Somebody tell me, don't keep me waiting."  
  
Eugene was looking at her with a totally blank expression, that provided no help at all. She turned her attention to Bobby. "I had another dream." He said. Turning back to Eugene he repeated. "I had another dream. You need to call Agent Mulder, Eugene. He needs to hear this."  
  
* * *  
  
They were there in twenty minutes. Looking slightly rumpled and so sleep deprived, that Eugene raised an eyebrow as they walked past, Mulder mumbled something about a late night as he took a seat opposite Bobby.  
  
"Are you alright?"  
  
Bobby, hair still wet from his shower, face now clean shaven, nodded.   
  
"Can you tell us what you saw?" Mulder asked, as Scully pull out a notebook  
  
Bobby licked his dry lips. "It was different this time."  
  
"How so?" Mulder gave Rebecca a grateful smile as she handed him a cup of coffee.  
  
"It was more. I couldn't just see it, this time I could feel it."  
  
"You could feel what your wife was feeling?"  
  
"Yes." He answered, compounding the word by nodding his head. "At least I think so."  
  
This caught Scully's attention. "What was she feeling?"  
  
"Hope."  
  
"Hope?"  
  
He nodded again. "That's the first thing I remember, everything was black, but I could feel hope."  
  
"You don't think there's the possibility that it was just your feelings, hope that she'll come home soon?"  
  
Mulder shot her an annoyed look, but she kept her gaze focused on Bobby.  
  
"I don't know, maybe." He gave the idea some thought, then shrugged. "I can only tell you what happened."  
  
"Please." Mulder said.  
  
"Well it was black, dark. And I had this feeling of hope rushing through me, and then the darkness started to change."  
  
"How so?"  
  
Bobby frowned in concentration. "There was a beam of light, just a thin beam, it barely cut into the darkness. And then I saw hands….. Lindsay's hands, they were bandaged, and tied together, reach up and pull the blackness away. All this light shone in, and hurt my eyes, but I didn't worry about that."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Because I realised that I had a window. I was looking out a window, and I thought I might get free."  
  
The silence that descended over the room was suddenly deafening.   
  
"Did you?" Mulder asked. "Did you manage to get free?"  
  
"No." His eyes were wet, and he avoided looking at any one else in the room. "I tried, but the window was high and the glass was too strong, I didn't have anything to break it with." He was blinded by tears now, they ran unheeded down his cheeks. "I used my fists, and it hurt, it hurt a lot, but I kept trying. I just wanted to get outside. To go home." He didn't pay any attention to the tissue Rebecca pressed into his hands, or feel the hand she put on his shoulder.  
  
Scully found her own eyes weren't entirely dry. "What happened then Bobby? How did the dream end?"  
  
"I saw somebody out side. At first I thought maybe they'd heard me banging and had come to help. But…"  
  
"It was him, wasn't it?" Mulder asked. "You saw Edmund."  
  
Bobby nodded, and remembered the feeling of fear he'd had when he'd woken up. "He has cold eyes." He murmured.  
  
Scully blinked in surprise. "What?"  
  
He looked down at his hands. "I could see his eyes, they were…." A chill ran up his spine. "Scary." He looked at Mulder now. "I woke up. That's the last thing I remember, feeling scared."  
  
Mulder regarded him thoughtfully. "Did you get a good look outside?"  
  
Bobby nodded, mutely. Still reliving the feelings he'd experienced in the dream.  
  
"Can you tell us what you saw?" When Bobby just stared at him, he gently prompted. "Bobby?"  
  
"Flowers." He said softly. "There were flowers… Roses outside the window."  
  
"Were they in bloom?"  
  
He nodded. "Yes, they were white. White roses."  
  
"What else?"  
  
Bobby looked at him, confused. "Nothing, just the roses."  
  
"Bobby, you need to think. Could you see the lawn?" Bobby nodded. "Was the grass long or short."  
  
"Uh, short. Like it'd just been cut a couple of days ago."  
  
"Was there a driveway?"   
  
"Yes."  
  
"Was it on your left side, or right side?"  
  
"Um, right."  
  
"What was it made out of? Pavers, cement, dirt?"  
  
Bobby concentrated for a moment. "I don't know. I didn't have time to really see." He floundered. "I don't know."  
  
"That's alright." Mulder gave him a reassuring smile. "Could you see a street?"  
  
"Yes. But not well." Bobby's brow creased as he thought. "The window was too high to see much, and the flowers were in the way."  
  
"Could you see if there were any cars? Make out any tyres? Anything?"  
  
"I don't think so. No." He said more decisively. "There can't have been, because I could see the fence."  
  
"What fence?" Scully asked.  
  
"On the other side of the road. I could only make out the very bottom of it. It was white, with wooden slats."  
  
"Like a picket fence?"  
  
Bobby shrugged. "I don't know." He put his head in his hands in frustration. "I just don't know, I should have paid more attention."  
  
"No. You're doing great." He waited until Bobby looked at him. "I know this isn't easy. I'm sorry for bombarding you with all these questions."  
  
There was a plea in Bobby's eyes. "Do you think it'll help her?"  
  
Mulder watched Scully put the notebook away. "I hope so."  
  
* * *  
  
"We're really going to follow this through?" Doug looked skeptically at Mulder. It was a look he was used to seeing.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"We're following a lead about a dream?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Okaaaay." He shot Adam a dubious look.  
  
Adam, always the peacemaker, looked between both men. "I think what Doug's trying to say…."  
  
"I know what he's trying to say." Mulder interrupted. "And I know you all have some doubts about this line of investigation. But we've had some experience in these sort of things before." He looked at Scully, including her even though she was sitting quietly beside him. "It isn't as strange as it all sounds. In fact for century's there have been reports….."  
  
"Mulder." Scully put a hand on his shoulder to distract him. "Can I see you over here for a moment?"  
  
She led him over to the corner of the room, and leaning in close to him, spoke softly. "I don't think you need to go into past cases."  
  
"What are you talking about Scully?" Like her he kept his voice at a whisper. Looking over her head he saw Mike, Adam and Doug all watching them. "They don't believe. I'm just trying to give them some background, lay a little foundation for the investigation."  
  
"Mulder they don't need to believe to do their jobs. They know we're in charge here, at the moment they respect that." He was getting that kicked puppy look. "Lets just keep the facts about this case, okay?"  
  
"You don't believe it either." It was more of an accusation than a question.  
  
She sighed, because invariably somewhere in every case this conversation came up. "Truthfully I haven't made my mind up yet." When he would speak, she held up a hand. "I don't disbelieve it. It's just…" She looked at him helplessly. "I was there this morning too Mulder, I saw what he was going through. If anything he said helps bring us closer to finding Lindsay, then I'm one hundred percent for it. I just think it's a bit of a long shot."  
  
"You gotta play the cards you're dealt."   
  
She rolled her eyes, she could always count on Mulder to bring in the cliché. "Lets just not put them offside. We need them."  
  
He allowed a small ghost of a smile. "I don't put people off, Scully."  
  
She didn't comment on that, but then he didn't really expect her too. Instead by mutual agreement that the conversation was over they moved back to the table and took their seats.   
  
"We are going to pursue this line of investigation." Mulder confirmed, picking up the earlier conversation. "We're going to do it because quite frankly at this stage we're running out of time and we cant afford not too. I respect the fact that some of you have doubts, but I need you to put that aside for now and keep an open mind."   
  
He handed out files to all three of them. "These are the details of Bobby's latest dream. Also a summary of what he told us yesterday. You all know this city a lot better than we do, so I'd like you to look over the descriptions he gave us, and see if anything sounds familiar. I'd also like you to keep in mind that none of the information he's given us to date, actually contradicts the clues that Ed has sent us, or the information we've collected on our own."  
  
"How is that relevant?" Mike asked.  
  
"Maybe it isn't." Mulder answered. He looked at Scully. "I'm just saying that the two lines of investigation aren't necessarily mutually exclusive."  
  
Any answer she would have given to that was interrupted when her cell phone rang. She fished it out of her pocket. "Scully."  
  
She put a hand up to her other ear to block out the conversation that went on around her. After listening to the person on the other end of the line, she answered. "Alright, we'll be right there."  
  
"Who was that?" Mulder asked as she disconnected.  
  
"The lab. They said they'd found something we should see." She put the phone back in her pocket.  
  
"They didn't say what?"  
  
"No."  
  
He blew out a breath. "Helpful. Okay well lets head over there and see what they have for us."   
  
"What do you want us to do?" Mike asked.  
  
Mulder pointed to the folders on the table. "Go through all that stuff. If nothing pops try cross referencing it with the board. We wont be long."  
  
* * *  
  
"Dr Samuels?" Scully knocked politely on the door frame before stepping inside the room.  
  
"Ah, Agent Scully. I wasn't expecting you so soon." He looked out at her from beneath large, thick glasses that made him look somewhat like an owl. A full head of the curliest hair Scully had ever seen framed his face.  
  
"Well we were close, and you said you had something for us." She gestured towards Mulder. "I'm sorry, this is my partner Agent Mulder."  
  
"Pleased to meet you." He held out a gloved hand, but then realising it wasn't clean, pulled it back. "Sorry, professional hazard."  
  
"No problem."  
  
With a practiced move he pulled off both gloves, by turning them inside out, and washed and dried his hands. "I have to say I'm a little embarrassed to be having this conversation." Reaching for a clear plastic bag he handed it to Scully. "We found that this morning."  
  
She looked at the torn piece of paper. If it had once been white it was hard to tell when. "What is it?"  
  
"We believe that came from your victim. One of our techs went through all the clothes you sent us. I gave you the report of what was found." He picked up a clip board and flipped through a couple of pages. "There wasn't much, just some money." He blinked at them through thick lenses.  
  
"That paper was found this morning stuck to one of the wheels of a gurney. You'll notice some blood on the right side." He pointed for emphasis. "I had them run it, it matches your man."  
  
"Did you run it for fingerprints?"  
  
"Yes, there was only the victims."  
  
Scully looked back at the page, and the neatly printed phone number, still visible amongst the other stains. Looking over at Mulder she saw the excited gleam in his eyes. She turned back to the Doctor. "Are we right to take this with us?"  
  
He nodded, and the curls bobbed merrily. "Certainly. I'm really sorry about this, you should have had this yesterday. I promise you the tech that was doing the tests has been spoken with firmly."  
  
"Thank you Doctor."  
  
Mulder was already pulling out his cell phone as they walked through the exit. "What are you doing?" Scully asked.  
  
"I'm calling that number." He reached for the bag.  
  
She held it out of reach. "No you're not."  
  
"That's Edmunds cell phone number, Scully."  
  
Sometimes she wondered just how stupid he thought she was. "Thank you Mulder, in my limited way I managed to figure that out for myself. But you're not going to call it without the proper equipment set up. We can't afford to stuff this up at this stage."  
  
"What we can't afford to do is wait."  
  
She sent him a baleful stare. "I don't think we can take the chance."  
  
His impatience was practically radiating off him. "Scully, we can't trace his cell phone even if we wanted too. So what are we waiting for? Every second counts."  
  
She shook her head, holding strong. "Even if we can't trace it Mulder, we can still record it. What if he makes a reference that you don't get but someone else would? Not to mention if this goes to trial, we don't want it to come down to a your word against his, scenario." She paused. "He only needs to make one mistake Mulder, this could be it. We have to do this one by the book." She led the way towards the car and turned back to him when he hadn't moved. "The sooner we get there, the sooner we get started."  
  
* * *  
  
Bobby was sitting in his study, staring a photo of Lindsay and Rob, when Helen walked into the room. He hadn't even heard the door. Again.  
  
"Hey Bobby." She said softly. He wondered why everyone felt the need to talk so quietly too him, as if they thought he might shatter if they spoke in normal tones.   
  
"You heard." He said, without looking up.  
  
"Eugene called me."  
  
"Ah." If he was surprised it didn't show. "I guess he called all the others too then."  
  
Helen's nod was wasted, as he wasn't looking at her. "I think so. He's worried about you Bobby. We all are."  
  
"I'm not the one you need to worry about."  
  
She moved further into the room and sat down in the chair opposite him. Lindsay's chair. "I think you are." After a significant pause he finally looked at her. "Eugene said you'd been in here all morning. What are you doing?"  
  
He waved an arm absently at the doorframe. "It's not a crime scene anymore. I just wanted to be here."  
  
"It hasn't been a crime scene for a couple of days now."  
  
"I couldn't come in before."  
  
She nodded in understanding. It was hard for her to look at the desk and not see the spilled blood. "Why now?"  
  
He shrugged, a helpless gesture that brought tears to her eyes. "I thought it might help…. Maybe bring me closer to her."  
  
"Has it?"  
  
"Not yet." He looked at the blood stain on the carpet. "I just wanted to see her again."  
  
She followed his gaze. "Like you did in the dream?"  
  
"You think I'm crazy."  
  
"No." She turned her attention back to him. "I think…."  
  
He put the photo aside. "What?"  
  
"I think you want her home."  
  
A tear rolled down his cheek. "I do." Another tear, then another. "I miss her so much."  
  
She pulled him into a hug. "I know. So do I."  
  
* * *  
  
Mulder paced the length of the room, impatient as he waited for the techs to set up the equipment Scully had insisted on. And she was right, he allowed, it was procedure, and at this point making a mistake on their part could be the difference between saving Lindsay and not. That's if Edmund even took the call.  
  
He heaved a sigh, fought the battle for patience, lost. "What's taking so long?"  
  
With a suffering sigh that had more to do with her partners impatience than her own, Scully replied "It'll just be another minute Mulder. You know we have to do this."  
  
"I know it." He folded his tall frame into a chair. "I just want to get started."  
  
"What are you hoping to achieve?" When he looked up at her she continued. "He may not even talk to you."  
  
He let out a huff that was more than three quarters sulk, and gestured to all the equipment around him. "If we both think that, then why are we going through this charade?"  
  
"Regulations." She said it in that dry tone that always left other people trying to guess whether or not she was joking. But not him.  
  
It teased a grin out of him "Yeah cause we've got a reputation for following those."   
  
"Well I did until you led me astray" She was keeping him occupied, and keeping his mind off the call, which they both knew was the reason for his impatience not the time it took to set up the equipment. He was nervous.   
  
"You know you keep saying that but I think it might have been the other way around, Scully."  
  
The eyebrow went up "I'd really like to hear the rationale behind that Mulder, but they're nearly finished. Hold that thought though."  
  
"Sure." He wiped his hands against his pant leg as he stood. Meeting her steady gaze he answered the question she'd asked earlier. "I want to break him Scully, make him slip up and make a mistake. All that arrogance has to want to channel out somewhere. He's never had an audience before, I just need to keep him talking."  
  
She lay a reassuring hand on his shoulder "You'll do fine."  
  
He kept his voice low so none of the other occupants of the room could hear him and spoke the thing that had been on his mind since the beginning "Time's almost out Scully."  
  
She lowered her voice to match his "Lets take one step at a time." She noticed the technician giving her the affirmative sign and nodded. "They're ready."  
  
She watched as he moved towards the technician and took the outstretched phone. And knowing that he'd be more comfortable without the large audience that had gathered in the room she addressed everyone. "Guy's would you mind stepping outside. Give us some room?"  
  
She saw the expressions of disappointment, indignation and some understanding on the faces as they one by one shuffled out. When the door closed quietly behind the last person, she turned towards Mulder and acknowledged his smile of thanks. He might have voiced it but for the technician that still held position by the machinery.   
  
Despite his previous impatience his hand paused over the keypad of the phone before dialling. But then he punched in the numbers and held his breath. Scully had put headphones on, so she could hear every word, his eyes found hers and their gazes locked when after three rings the phone connected. He didn't look away when he heard the "Hello." in a voice that was so familiar to him so many years ago. She was his strength.  
  
"Hello Edmund."  
  
"Agent Mulder." There was cheer in Edmunds voice. He'd considered the possibility that Martin would have written down his phone number. God knew the man had done every other stupid thing under the sun. But Edmund didn't like to think ill of the dead. Still he should have looked for it during their last conversation, of course time had been of the essence then. When the realisation had come to him, his first thought had been to dispose of the phone, but that had just been a knee jerk reaction. He had nothing to fear, they still wouldn't find him.   
  
What was more, he needed this conversation. He wanted it. This was his adversary. The person he'd pitted himself against in a battle of wills. So far Mulder had done reasonably well, but reasonably well was a long way from winning. It was time to separate the men from the boys.   
  
"To what do I owe the pleasure of this call?" He could afford pleasantries, he thought, in fact the simple fact that he used them set him apart from the field. For a split second he wished for face to face contact rather than over the phone, he wanted to see Mulder's expression when he broke him down and squished him like a bug.  
  
Mulder anticipated the game and kept his voice light. "I thought it was time we caught up. You were awfully quiet yesterday. In fact we haven't heard anything from you since you killed your friend."  
  
Edmund looked down at his fingernails and decided they needed clipping. "What friend would that be?"  
  
"I think we both know." Mulder looked over at the tech and got a quick head shake in response to his unasked question. "Why'd you have to kill him Ed? Were we getting too close?"  
  
Anger bubbled in Edmunds veins at the mocking tone Mulder used. But his voice was calm. "You're nowhere. You wouldn't even know I was here, unless I'd told you. And come Wednesday you'll still be scratching your head looking for me." He walked the length of the lounge room. "You're always two steps behind Agent Mulder, that was your problem last time too wasn't it?"  
  
"Sure." Mulder replied affably "Right up until we caught you and threw your ass in jail."  
  
"That was blind luck." The television in the corner of the room was showing a football game. It's light the only thing illuminating the room closed in by heavy drapes. Normally Edmund would have turned it off or switched it over, he hated sports, detested them. But now he payed it no mind. "You wont be so lucky this time and neither will Lindsay."  
  
As soon as he said the name he cursed. He hadn't wanted to bring her up first. One point to Mulder.   
  
"How is she?" He asked the question that had been on the tip of his tongue since the call had been answered. His gaze met Scully's again. Held.  
  
He wanted to put things back on even footing. He wanted to say he'd disposed of her and throw Mulder off stride. But an unspoken rule of the game was honesty. He wouldn't break it. Nor would he elaborate. "She's better than she'll be on Wednesday."  
  
Mulder pushed the issue, he had too there'd been no photo for two days. "She's still alive?"  
  
With a exaggerated sigh, Edmund answered. "Yes Agent Mulder." He was determined to refer to him by title, no matter how informal Mulder got. That was pride. "She's still alive."  
  
"Can I speak to her?"  
  
With a flash of good humour Edmund smiled. "Sure, and why don't I unlock the doors and send up a flare while I'm at it. Better yet would you like my address?" He sat down on the sofa, the green glow from the TV cast eerie shadows on his face.   
  
Mulder didn't miss a beat. "That'd be really good, just let me get a pen and paper."  
  
Edmund chuckled. "You go and do that Agent Mulder. I won't give you my address, but I will give you something. No one should go home empty handed." He waited a beat. "Are you ready?"  
  
"I'm ready."  
  
"Ok then, today's clue for you." He recited from memory.   
  
"The time draws near and no sign of you yet  
Drive to far to the north and you'll get wet.  
To far to the east and you're on the wrong track  
Keep going South and you'll have to turn back."  
  
Mulder closed his eyes and ran the verse through his head. It was something but it wasn't enough. He wasn't pushing the right buttons. "That's really catchy Ed, did you come up with that yourself or did you find a fourth grader to help you out?"  
  
The temper he could never successfully keep at bay, licked to life inside him. He wouldn't be laughed at. "Save your clever quips Agent Mulder. You have a lot of work to do in a short amount of time, or maybe you should just give this one up and wait for the next round."  
  
"Oh I don't think so."  
  
The supreme confidence in Mulder's voice had anger ringing in Edmunds ears. On the television he watched a player break through the other teams defence and run for the try line his head turned looking for the ball.  
  
"You should enjoy your freedom while you have it Ed."  
  
The crowd was on its feet cheering him on.  
  
"We're closing in on you. You're not as smart as you think you are."  
  
Edmunds hand gripped the phone, his knuckles white. "You're bluffing, you're nowhere."  
  
The ball was sent soaring. Propelled over the heads of the opposition and landing in sure, steady hands.  
  
"Well then it wont mean anything to you when I tell you that that blue chair looks really comfortable. The cushions were a nice touch as well Ed. Colourful. Very you. I'm sure Lindsay likes them too."  
  
Touchdown.   
  
Edmunds answering scream was lost as he threw his phone at the television screen and watched them both shatter into small pieces.  
  
* * *  
  
"How is he?" Eugene turned away from the football game and stood as Helen appeared in the living room.  
  
She gave a small one shouldered shrug. "He won't come out." She sank down on the closest chair. "I don't know what to do for him Eugene. He seems so….. lost."  
  
"Yeah" Eugene sat back down too. "I'm not used to seeing him like this. If he was running around, issuing orders, yelling at people, I'd know how to handle him. But what do you say to a guy when he's broken?" He sighed. "If Lindsay were here she'd know."  
  
"If Lindsay were here he wouldn't be upset."  
  
"There is that." He conceded.   
  
"What do you make of all this dream stuff Eugene?"  
  
Eugene glanced over just as his team scored a touchdown. "I don't know. Bobby believes it…."   
  
"But you don't?"  
  
He shrugged. "I guess it just seems a bit desperate. Like he's trying to clutch at straws." The look Helen shot him had him holding up a hand. "Not that there's anything wrong with that. If I was in the same position, I'd want to be keeping hope alive too."  
  
Her mouth went dry. "You don't think there's any hope?"  
  
He turned the volume up higher on the TV to cover the sound of their conversation. "She's been gone for five days now Helen. I don't want to be the first person to say that she may not be coming home, but I think it might be easier all around if we at least consider the possibility." He expelled a deep breath, it felt horrible to say the thoughts out loud. "I used to be a P.I., I know that these things don't always work out well."  
  
"You said the F.B.I. were confident."  
  
"They seem to be. They listened to him talk this morning, took notes, promised to follow up on it, and I believe them. I think they'll do everything in their power to find Lindsay, even following clues that could only be in Bobby's head."  
  
"I feel a 'but' coming on."  
  
He gave a nod of his head in acknowledgment. "But…" He continued. "I don't know if they're doing the right thing by encouraging him on this. He feels like he's contributing to the investigation, and now we've got him sitting in the study trying to communicate telepathically with Lindsay. How much harder is this going to be for him if she doesn't make it. He's going to blame himself."  
  
"Dream or no dream he'd do that anyway, Eugene. Bobby's the champion of self guilt."  
  
He sighed and rubbed at his eyes. "I'm just trying to look out for him."  
  
"I know. You're a good friend." For the first time since she'd walked into the apartment she looked at him closely. "You look tired."  
  
He gave a small smile. "I haven't been getting a lot of sleep."  
  
She nodded. "You should go home. Get some rest."  
  
"I'm alright."  
  
"Eugene, you've been here since this started. Taking care of everything, you shouldn't have to do it all alone."  
  
"I haven't been alone, Bec was here last night, but she had to go into the office today. The firm's kind of been suffering with everyone's absence."  
  
"Well I'm here now." She stood and then gave him a nudge until he stood too. "I'll watch out for Bobby, you go to your place and get some rest. I'll call you if anything comes up."  
  
Emotions were conflicting inside him. He wanted to stay, but on the other hand he was really tired, and the idea of being able to stretch out on a bed rather than folding himself onto the couch, held appeal. "Are you sure?"  
  
She was pushing him towards the door. "We'll be fine."  
  
He turned towards her. "I'll only be a couple of hours."  
  
"Okay."  
  
"Call me if…." She gave him a final push and shut the door in his face. "You need anything." He finished, to the closed door.  
  
Helen shook her head, when she heard the muted words. She glanced up the hallway, Bobby hadn't appeared at the sound of the door opening and closing so she decided to leave him alone for awhile. She'd let him do whatever he thought he needed to get through this, if that was trying by some psychic method to talk to Lindsay, she wasn't going to judge. She sat on the couch and grimaced when she noticed the football game. Picking up the remote she surfed through the channels until she found a soap opera, and stretched out more comfortably. Hoping a bit of brainless entertainment would help keep her mind off what Eugene had said.  
  
* * *  
  
He was moving on pure emotion.  
  
Under normal circumstances he might have sat and thought about the conversation, dissected it, given himself sometime to calm down. But Mulder had mocked him, he'd laughed at him and then he'd tested him. Edmund didn't like the results of that test, in fact he didn't like the direction of the entire conversation. And so calm was out of the question. Standing he walked over to the destroyed television screen, glass crunching under the soles of his shoes as he did so. Reaching into the gaping hole he plucked out his cell phone and gave it a small shake to see if it was still functional. Hearing the pieces rattling within it, he gave a small shake of his head at the apparent lack of craftsmanship it contained and concluded that nothing was built to last any more.  
  
He strode from one end of the room to the other as he tried to collect his thoughts. Mulder's quips and smirks aside, his last comment was disturbing. How could he know about the chair and the cushions? The chance that that could be a lucky guess was next to nothing. The only other possibility he could think of was that Mulder knew where he was, but even if he did how could he possibly know what sort of furniture he had in Lindsay's room? And why would he waste time on a phone call instead of just coming over and breaking the door down? Unless the phone call was a decoy and he was on his way. Even as the thought occurred to him he moved towards the window and with a paranoia that would have made Mulder proud, peered through a crack in the heavy drapes.  
  
When he couldn't see anything he pushed away from the window and resumed his pacing. Mulder was playing with his mind, that was the only thing he could think of. However as he also considered himself a connoisseur of mind games he knew the best ones were often rooted in fact. And the fact was that Mulder knew about the chair. Only two people in the world new what furniture the basement held. And he certainly hadn't told anyone.  
  
That only left one other person.  
  
Still his mind reeled. Lindsay had been chosen at random, she'd been taken by surprise, and locked away since her capture. There was no way Mulder could have gotten too her. And if he could get to her what was she doing still locked in his basement? He just didn't have any answers. But that didn't mean he didn't intend to find some. Flinging his now useless cell phone onto the couch he headed for the stairs.  
  
* * *  
  
"That went well." Mulder disconnected the phone, the sound of the crash still echoing in his ear.   
  
Scully looked at the tech as she took off her head set. "Did you get all that?"  
  
"We got it. How many copies do you want?" He asked her.  
  
"Two, thanks." Walking over to Mulder she put a hand on his shoulder. "You did well."  
  
"Thanks." He blew out a relieved breath. "We should let the others back in I guess."  
  
Scully nodded and went over to open the door. Mike, Adam and Doug were waiting in the corridor. She gave them a small smile and held the door open wider as they filed by her one by one.   
  
"How'd it go?" Adam asked as soon as he stepped into the room.   
  
"Not bad." Mulder motioned for them all to sit and waited while the tech cued the tape.   
  
"You know how to work this?" He asked Mulder.  
  
Mulder nodded and shot Scully a quick look. "I've had some practice."  
  
"Okay then, I'll leave it with you. Just give me a yell when you've finished with it and I'll pack everything up."  
  
"Thanks." Mulder waited until he left before turning to face everyone. "I'm going to play you the tape of my conversation with Edmund. We'll listen to it all the way through, and then if you have any questions or want to hear it again, we'll go from there." He sat down in the seat vacated by the tech and hit the play button.   
  
Everyone listened intently as the voices filled the room, the only other sound the occasional rustle of paper as Adam took notes. Mulder waited until he heard the crash at the end, before hitting the stop button.  
  
"It sounded like you made him angry." Doug said.  
  
Mike looked at him. "I was going to say upset."  
  
"I think you're both right." Mulder answered.  
  
Adam tapped his pen on the table. "Was that a wise thing to do?"  
  
Mulder pushed his chair further away from the recorder, so his vision wasn't obscured. "In hindsight I don't know. At the time I was trying to get a reaction out of him, so that he'd reveal something. Smashing his telephone obviously wasn't the one I was going for."  
  
Mike gestured towards the machine. "Can we hear it again?"  
  
"Sure." With deft movements Mulder cued the tape and pressed play. They all listened silently again.   
  
"Do you believe him when he says Lindsay's still alive?" Mike asked.  
  
Standing and moving back over to the conference table, Mulder sat down beside Scully. He nodded thoughtfully. "I really don't see any reason for him to lie at this point. I honestly believe if she were dead, he wouldn't still be here. There's no game for him with out Lindsay he needs her."  
  
"But that's not necessarily true." Adam disagreed. "As far as he's concerned you still believe she's alive, so as long as you're still playing the game, there's reason for him to continue, regardless of Lindsay's state of well being."  
  
"No." Mulder shook his head. "If he didn't get to kill her at the designated time, then there wouldn't be any sense of victory for him. That's his grand prize, getting past the finish line if you will, and claiming his trophy by killing his victim. Otherwise it's an empty win for him."  
  
"But if you believe what happens in Bobby's dreams, he's already hurt her."  
  
Mulder turned his attention to Mike. "I didn't say he wouldn't hurt her. That's part of the thrill for him as well. He has a need to prove he's in charge in every aspect. If Lindsay does something to displease him or to challenge his authority, his first instinct would be to cause pain. That was confirmed in the interviews we conducted with Karen Whitmore after she was freed."  
  
"So what about this clue?" Adam tore off the page in the notebook, where he'd jotted it down and pushed it towards the centre of the table.   
  
They were all silent as they read it over. "It's directional." Scully said. "You've got north, east and south, but no west"  
  
"Is that telling us we need to go west or we shouldn't" Mike asked.  
  
"Should." Doug answered. Everyone looked at him. "Have a look." Rising he went over to the board, and pulled down the map Adam had drawn on Friday. "If you use Boston as a point of reference and apply the clues" He picked up Adam's pen and placed it where he'd written the word Boston. "Drive to far to the north and you'll get wet" He drew a line upwards until it intersected the two that signified the Charles River.  
  
"Too far to the east and you're on the wrong track." Using Boston as the starting point again he drew a line to the east and then crossed it out. Going back to the starting point he continued. "Keep going south and you'll have to turn back." He drew a line down, and again marked it off. "But by going west look where you end up." He followed the direction, it dissected neatly through a cross that had been previously marked, under it was written 'North Eastern'.  
  
"It takes us right back to the first clue. It's the only university we didn't investigate."  
  
"What do you think?" Adam asked Mulder.  
  
"I think it's worth checking out."   
  
"Can I come?" Doug asked. He paused at Mulder's surprised look. "I graduated from North Eastern, I think I could be of some help."  
  
"Okay." Mulder nodded. "That would be good." He moved over to the recorder and removing the tape handed it to Adam. "While we're gone can you get this down to the lab, I want the sound guys to listen for any background noise, planes flying overhead, dogs barking, cars driving past. Anything that might help us pin point an exact location." He gestured to the piece of paper on the table. "And can someone get us a better map of Boston. That one's lacking a few details."  
  
"Is there anything you want me to do?" Mike asked.  
  
Mulder shook his head. "No, not until we run down this lead. We'll give you both a call when we're on our way back, and we'll meet here to discuss where we stand."  
  
* * *  
  
She was sleeping when he entered the room, so it came as some surprise to her when she woke to find him standing over her. Even with one eye still swollen shut and the other blurred from sleep she could tell something was wrong.  
  
"Sit up."  
  
It was difficult to do with both arms and feet tied and her body still aching, but she did her best. When he grew impatient at her attempts he grabbed her arm and hauled her up until she was half sitting, half lying against the headboard. With his left hand he reached over and ripped away the bandaging beside her eye, then framed her face in the lense of the digital camera he held with his right. "Say cheese, Lindsay" He said, and momentarily blinded her by the flash. Turning away from her he walked over and placed the camera on the table.  
  
"I've been sending Agent Mulder little pictorial progress reports on you, but I've been lax the last couple of days."  
  
She frowned and tried to remember him taking her picture before. "You have?"  
  
"Yes." He turned back around until he was facing her again. "You're usually unconscious at the time."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Speaking of Agent Mulder…" He walked closer until he was standing over her again, and she could see the dangerous glint in his eyes. "I had an interesting conversation with him today."  
  
Confusion and hope warred for pride of place inside her. Confusion won. "You did?"  
  
"Yes." He nudged her over, and sat down beside her on the bed, the cold fury in his face clearly visible. "It started off rather nicely, we exchanged pleasantries, he asked after you, I provided him with the next clue. But then he made the strangest comment."   
  
He used his index finger to trace down the good side of her face, and her skin crawled. "He complimented me on that chair Lindsay" With a small jerk of his head he indicated the other side of the room. "And those cushions, that only you and I have seen." Pursing his lips he regarded her thoughtfully. "What do you think that means?" The finger that traced down the side of her face came to rest on her lips. "You may want to think about your answer carefully, the wrong one could have dire consequences."  
  
"I don't know." She answered. "I don't know what you're talking about."  
  
He heaved a sigh of the long suffering. "I had a feeling you were going to say that." The hand that had been on her face, moved down to rest against her neck. "Let me explain this to you in words you'll understand Lindsay, and then I'll give you one last chance to answer. It appears that unauthorised information is being filtered to the other team. Now I know I'm not giving it away, and unfortunately for you I have a rather short list of suspects."  
  
Fear built in her chest. "But I've been locked in here."  
  
"I know. Hence my confusion. Tell me what you've been up too Lindsay."  
  
"Nothing." She tried to push away from him, to gain some distance. Hysteria bubbled in her voice. "I haven't done anything."  
  
His temper snapped. "You see that was the wrong answer again." In a move that was as natural for him as breathing he brought his other hand up to join the one at her throat and squeezed.   
  
The pressure at her throat was tremendous. She made a slight gagging sound as her airways were cut off and tried to jerk her head away from him. She succeeded only in rapping it against the iron headboard and making herself dizzy. Bringing her bound hands up in between them she pushed futilely at his body, but her position on the bed didn't allow for any leverage. He vision was starting to darken, the hands at her throat like vices, and in one last act of desperation, she swung her hands up from his chest to connect with his face. The sickening sound of bone breaking was the last thing she heard before she fell into oblivion.   
  
* * *  
  
"Hey Mike." Helen held the door open for him to enter.  
  
"Helen?" Mike looked at her surprised. "Shouldn't you be at work?"  
  
She gave a small shrug and closed the door. "I took the afternoon off. It's my turn to Bobby sit. I sent Eugene home to get some rest, he should be back soon."  
  
"Oh." He looked around the empty apartment. "How is Bobby?"  
  
"Not great." With a small jerk of her head, she motioned towards the kitchen. "Do you want a coffee?"  
  
"Yeah, that'd be great." He trailed along after her. "Is he sleeping?"  
  
"No." She filled the kettle and set it to boil. "He's in the study. He's been in there most of the day."  
  
"Doing what?"  
  
Reaching up she retrieved a couple of mugs from the cupboard, and added some instant coffee. "I'm not a hundred percent sure, but I think he's trying to communicate with Lindsay."  
  
Mikes eyebrows rose. "In the study?"  
  
"Yeah." When the kettle clicked off, she added the water, and giving the cups a quick stir handed one to Mike. "I think his theory is that because that's where she was taken from, that's where he'd be closest to her." They both sat down at the table. "He's so lost Mike, I didn't have the heart to tell him otherwise."  
  
"You don't think it's possible?"  
  
"You know, I did." She took a sip of her drink and felt it scald her tongue. "Until I had a little chat with Eugene today. It kind of burst my bubble."  
  
"What'd he say?"  
  
She set the mug down. "Just that he thinks we should be prepared for the worst. That in all likelihood Lindsay's already dead and this guy's just stringing us along."  
  
Mike looked at her, surprised. "He really believes that?"  
  
"I guess so. I think he's holding out hope like the rest of us, that she'll be returned safely. But yeah, some part of him thinks it's already too late."  
  
"Well when I spoke to Agent Mulder just before, he still seemed convinced that Edmund wouldn't kill Lindsay until the deadline. And he knows him the best out of all of us." He couldn't tell her about the phone call, he hadn't been given authorisation. But he could give her that.  
  
"I hope he's right." She took another swallow. "So where are our friends at the F.B.I.?"  
  
"They're out at North Eastern University. We got another clue today that seems to lead in that direction."  
  
"They left you behind, hey?"  
  
"Yeah." He gave a small shrug "It's fine, they're doing what they need to do. I mean I'm grateful they've included me as much as they have, I know they didn't need too." He pushed away his coffee cup. "I just wish I could do more. I mean I know Lindsay, I know all of you, I should have more to give them than I have."  
  
"Mike." She reached across the table and touched the back of his hand. "We all know how much time and effort you're putting into this case. And everyone of us, including Bobby takes comfort from the fact that you're involved. We know you're doing everything you can."  
  
He looked down at their hands. "Thank you."  
  
Pulling back, she reclaimed her coffee mug. "That's what I was going to say."  
  
* * *  
  
"Nothing?" Adam looked around in disbelief. "You didn't find anything?"  
  
"No." Mulder looked at the faces that surrounded him. He'd made the phone calls as he'd promised on the way back from the college, and now all five of them were again seated around the conference table. "We walked the campus and interviewed everyone we could find. Then we did a five block radius around the college looking for any house that fit the details that Bobby gave us. If Edmunds been anywhere around there, we couldn't find any evidence." He slumped back in his chair.  
  
"So where does this leave us?" Mike asked.  
  
Scully turned to Adam. "Did you turn up anything on the tape?"  
  
He flicked through his notes. "There wasn't a lot. No planes, nothing that could be construed as neighbourhood sounds. We did pick up some traffic in the background. Mostly cars, but once or twice it sounded like a heavy truck driving past. The tech didn't think the traffic was too close though, probably a few blocks away."  
  
"Well that's something to work on at least….." Mulder paused when his cell phone rang. "Excuse me." He clicked the answer button. "Mulder."  
  
"Agent Mulder"   
  
When he heard Skinners voice he stood and walked towards the far side of the room. "Yes sir?"  
  
"I was expecting a report from you yesterday. Apparently I'm still expecting it today."  
  
"Oh. Right." Mulder blew out a breath and wondered why conversations with A.D. Skinner always made him feel like a fourth grader, being reprimanded by his favourite teacher. "I didn't expect you to be at work yesterday. We're just wrapping up a few things now and I was going to type one up."  
  
"This is a very high profile case Agent Mulder. I'm being asked a lot of questions about it. The forerunner being, if we know who the perpetrator is and are by all accounts being assisted by him. What's taking us so long to find him. Could you give me an answer on that?"  
  
"Well it's a little complicated, Sir."  
  
"Explain it too me then."  
  
"Wouldn't you rather wait for my report?"  
  
"I'll save you an hour of typing, you can give it to me now."  
  
"Okay." Closing his eyes, Mulder rubbed at the tension headache he had forming. As briefly and concisely as he could he outlined the events of the last two days.   
  
There was a long pause when he finished, and then he heard Skinner say. "A nexus?"  
  
"That's right."  
  
Another pause. "Agent Mulder, is Agent Scully there?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Could you put her on?"  
  
Mulder turned and was surprised to find Scully was now the only other occupant in the room. Holding is hand over the mouthpiece of the phone he raised an eyebrow. "I sent the others home." She said.  
  
He nodded and held out the phone. "Skinner wants a word."  
  
Casting him a worried look she took it from him. "Scully."  
  
"Agent Scully, what the hell's going on over there?"  
  
"I'm sorry?"  
  
"I sent you down there to investigate a kidnapping, now I'm getting stories of dreams, and psychic connections. What's your take on all this?"  
  
"Sir, we're following any leads we can to solve this case."  
  
"So you think Agent Mulder's theory has some merit?"  
  
She looked at Mulder, who was watching her intently. "I'm not discounting it."  
  
She heard Skinner sigh on the other end of the line. "Alright, put Mulder back on."  
  
"Yes sir." She handed the phone back to him, and he gave her a small smile of thanks.  
  
"Mulder."  
  
"Agent Mulder, I want that lady found. Follow whatever avenues you have too, but get it done."  
  
"Yes sir." Mulder answered, but he was talking to the dial tone.  
  
* * *  
  
Exhausted, and emotionally spent, Bobby crawled into bed early. If he tried he could just make out the muted voices of the conversation outside, but he didn't put any effort into it. He had other things on his mind. Pulling the blankets up around his neck, he rolled over and looked at the side of the bed Lindsay normally occupied. He wondered if this wasn't some warped kind of payback for all the times he'd kept her on the outside, refusing to let her share his thoughts or troubles, so confident he could handle everything on his own. Well he was on his own now wasn't he? Now when he had so many thoughts and feelings he wanted to share with her. When all he wanted to do was hold her in his arms and tell her he loved her, he could do nothing but pray.  
  
Moving until he was lying on his back, he closed his eyes and willed himself to go to sleep. He needed to be with her, needed it like he hadn't ever needed anything else in his life. And when he slept for those few short moments that he could remember afterwards he truly believed he was. It didn't occur to him to question how such a thing could be possible, just that it was, was enough for him to accept it. To crave it. That the images he saw terrified him, only served to strengthen his resolve to use them to help the F.B.I find her sooner, but still he sent a silent prayer that tonight they wouldn't be as dark.  
  
He needn't have worried though, as his mind switched of, he breathed a gentle sigh as he felt himself falling asleep. Once again rolling on his side, he unconsciously reached out for her, and when he did finally drift off he slept the sleep of the dreamless.   
  
  
* * *  
  



	11. Tuesday

TUESDAY  
  
"Coming." Scully blew her hair out of her eyes and rose to answer the knock at the door. Mulder stood on the other side bouncing on the soles of his feet.  
  
"I thought we were meeting for breakfast?"  
  
"Sorry." She said, moving back into the room and towards her computer. "I just wanted to check my email, before I came down."  
  
"Anything interesting?" He asked, as he settled himself on the edge of the bed.  
  
"I don't know, I'd only just opened it." She clicked on the first message, blushed, and closed it quickly.   
  
"What was that?" Mulder asked craning his neck to try to peer over her shoulder.  
  
"Nothing." She answered quickly, then sighed. "Just a message from Frohike."  
  
Interested and more than a little amused that Scully was still blushing, he leaned forward. "What'd it say?"  
  
"Nothing." she repeated, more firmly this time. "So Mulder what's the plan for today?" Distraction was the best tactic she had.  
  
Not giving up, but deciding that if he couldn't get the information out of her later, he'd just ask Frohike, Mulder conceded the subject change. "I'm not sure, I want to have a talk to Bobby a little later this morning, see if there's anything new from that angle. I've already contacted the field office, the guards there said no clue's were dropped off overnight, but since we only have one day left I'm sure Ed'll find some creative method to get one too us. I'm halfway expecting an ad in the newspaper but that seems a little too extreme even for him. Maybe…"   
  
He trailed off when he noticed Scully wasn't paying any attention to him. "Am I boring you already Scully?"  
  
"I think I discovered his method, Mulder." She turned the computer around until the message was visible.  
  
Agent Scully,  
  
We haven't officially met, although I am aware of the fact that you've spent the entirety of your time in Boston searching for me. Know that I've spent equal time following your progress and unlike the colleagues that Agent Mulder teamed up with during our last encounter, I have found you to be every bit the adversary he is.   
  
Your interpretation of my clues so far has been interesting to watch unfold. Your investigation of the universities while unfruitful for you at the time, may still provide valuable information. I'm aware that you contacted the prison and spoke to Warden Sweeney, I hope he spoke highly of me, however I should point out that you wasted that day trying to track Martin down. Did you really believe I'd let you find him? You should have been focussing on the clues I'd provided.   
  
Regardless of that, all is not lost, as time has not yet expired I offer you this final photograph and clue to assist in your investigation:  
  
The place you need stops with an End  
It contains a place where people tend.  
I've given you the clues to help Lindsay survive,  
Find her before tomorrow or she won't be alive.  
  
In the unlikely event that you can decipher it's meaning, I'll look for you tomorrow. If not there's always another city and another challenge, maybe we can meet personally next time.  
  
Yours sincerely,  
Edmund Harrison  
  
P.S. Please give my best regards to Agent Mulder, I bet he's not laughing now.  
  
She scrolled down further, a picture of Lindsay filled the screen.   
  
"She's awake." Mulder murmured. "We haven't had a picture where she's been awake before."  
  
"That's a positive sign at least."  
  
He nodded, his gaze fixed on the screen, taking in the bruised face and worried eyes. "Yeah, she looks a little worse for wear though" He scanned through the message again, then a third time. "Something's not right here, Scully."  
  
"I know." She'd been rereading it herself. "Where's he getting his information from?"  
  
"That's what I was thinking. It couldn't just be from Martin. Not all of it anyway. He knows Agent Griffin contacted the prison, how could he have known that?"  
  
"Phone tap?"  
  
He raised an eyebrow. "On the F.B.I. phones?"  
  
"I don't know Mulder. What other choices are there? Maybe he has an inside source?"  
  
Eyes narrowed, he considered the possibility. Then shook his head. "If he had an inside source, he'd hardly have any reason to use Martin in the first place. Not to mention that everyone was assigned the case after we arrived. So how could they have any connection to Ed?"  
  
She shrugged. "Well he's getting it from somewhere. He can obviously get access to our emails…." She paused when the colour drained from his face.   
  
"Why do you say that?"  
  
"Because he sent this one to me. And I, like everyone else on the case apart from you, wasn't around the first time."  
  
A headache started to form behind his eyes. "I've been emailing my progress reports to Skinner, Scully. What are the chances he could have got access to them?"  
  
She frowned. "I don't know enough about it Mulder. I'd imagine there'd be some security measures in place, but it's a better question for the experts." She cast a worried glance at him. "But if he's been reading your reports then…."  
  
"Then he really is a few steps ahead of us. I know." Even rubbing, couldn't reduce the pain. "This is just speculation Scully. We don't know if he's been reading the reports or if he's just a really good guesser."   
  
"Mulder, he'd have to be a great guesser to know that stuff."  
  
"Thanks, that's really helpful." Standing, he ran a hand through is hair, Edmund was right, he definitely wasn't laughing. "We should head over to the field office." He gestured towards her notebook computer. "You should bring that with you."  
  
Nodding, she shut it down, and with deft movements packed it in the carry case. "When was the last time you sent through a report?"  
  
He considered a moment. "Um, Saturday night. I didn't bother sending one on Sunday because I didn't think Skinner would be working. And he called me yesterday, so I didn't send one then either."  
  
"So even if that is how he's getting his information, he'd be behind now. He wouldn't know what we're working on at the moment."  
  
"Maybe. We can only hope so anyway."  
  
Holding the door open, he waited until she walked past him and followed her into the corridor. "This could really screw things up Scully."   
  
She recognised the look in his eye, the tone of his voice, and stopped in the middle of the hallway to turn and face him. "Don't do this Mulder, not now."  
  
"What?" He took a few steps past her, and pushed the button for the elevator.  
  
"Don't start blaming yourself for things we don't even have answers to yet. This isn't about you Mulder, it's about him, if we're going to find Lindsay we need to remember that."  
  
He didn't turn around, just reached over and pushed the button a few more times. "I don't know what you're talking about."  
  
"Yes you do." With her free hand she reached out and took hold of his elbow, spinning him towards her. "You think I don't know what this case is doing to you Mulder? You think I don't understand? I do." The lift arrived and was mercifully empty. She walked in ahead of him, waited for the doors to close and continued. "Every time we take a case like this it takes a piece out of you. She's not your sister Mulder, it doesn't have to end the same way."  
  
He suddenly found the pattern of the carpet very interesting. "My sister was abducted by aliens Scully, I hardly think it could end the same way."  
  
The doors slid open, when he would have taken a step forward she held out her hand to stop him. They slid closed again. "Your sister was taken and never returned. That doesn't have to happen here. We can find her Mulder, no matter how many steps he is in front of us, we can still find her, but not if you're too busy blaming yourself to keep looking."  
  
He did look at her now, and in his eyes she could see every emotion he was feeling, but his voice when he spoke was light. "Scully if there's one thing you should know about me after all this time it's that I never stop looking."   
  
This time when the doors opened they stepped out together.  
  
* * *  
  
The light was on when she woke, the low wattage of the bulb casting a dim pallor on the room. She understood somewhere in the recesses of her mind that the light signified daytime, but that was as far as her understanding allowed. How long had she been unconscious? It was hard, oh so hard, to keep track of the days. But with every one that past, she knew she was one step closer to death.  
  
The thought caused an involuntary shiver to run up her spine, and goose bumps broke out across her skin. She wondered, as she'd only allowed herself to do when she was alone, about Bobby and Rob. And she worried. It had helped her earlier, to think of them and remember all the good times, all the joy. It had given her strength, conviction that she would see them again. But with each passing moment, each prayer she sent for release that went unanswered her conviction faltered. She'd tried to be strong, to keep the fear from showing when Edmund was in the room, but with each act of violence, each demonstration that he truly meant to carry through with his plan, she was pushed just that bit closer to the brink of despair.   
  
Bobby would be blaming himself for the situation. Though it had nothing to do with him, she knew him well enough to know that. He'd place the questions and the blame squarely on his shoulders, because that was his way. And if she died, today or tomorrow or two days from now, the burden would be that much greater. She didn't want that for him, she didn't want that for their son.  
  
Tears pricked in her eyes and momentarily forgetting the bruising she lifted her hands to wipe them away. When they came in contact with the swelling she jerked her head back in pain. Her heart ached for the family she loved, for the friends. And it ached for herself. It wasn't right that through some fluke of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, she might never see her son grow up. To miss his first step, his first day of school, his successes and failures. And she wanted all that, she wanted it so badly.   
  
It wasn't fair!  
  
She wanted to scream that, to cry and rant and rave. They were going to have more children, they'd talked about it, planned for it, looked forward too it. The image of Bobby's hopeful look as he'd tried to talk her into having four, swam into her mind. Her counter offer of two, and his cheerful grin as they'd settled for three. She clung to the memory of the way his arms had wrapped around her, and the soft, playful suggestion he'd whispered in her ear about practice making perfect. Followed soon after by the groan of frustration, as Rob had started crying.  
  
Even as she brought herself back from the thought, she could feel the love and happiness they'd shared, and it made her just that bit more lonely. Lying there in the poorly lit area, on an uncomfortable bed, in a room where nobody could hear her scream, she gave in to the tenuous grip she'd kept on her emotions. She could only open her right eye a sliver, and there was no vision there, just a swimming sea of grey, but it was room enough for tears to pour out. She let them run down her face unheeded, she let her body wrack, and her throat still bruised from Edmunds assault, clog.  
  
And when she heard Edmund open the door, she turned the left side of her face as far into the pillow as it would go, and damned him straight to hell.   
  
* * *  
  
"You think what?" Adam asked, from his perch opposite Mulder.  
  
"I think that Edmunds been hacking into my email account. Intercepting the reports I've been sending to A.D. Skinner."  
  
"Based on what?"  
  
"This." Mulder turned Scully's laptop around until it was facing the others. "Read the message, he's getting his information from somewhere. The only place I can think that would be is in the reports." He gestured to the machine behind him. "I want the techs to go through both these machines. Pull them apart if they have too…."  
  
"What?" Scully said, clutching at her laptop protectively.   
  
Adam smiled at her. "I'm sure it wont come to that."  
  
"Okay, tell them to start with that one then. They can do whatever they have to do, but if Ed's in there I want him out."  
  
Mike was looking at the photo of Lindsay. "That eye looks bad."  
  
Mulder's voice gentled. "We knew he wouldn't go easy on her."  
  
"I guess. But knowing and seeing are two different things." He looked away from the picture and over to Mulder. "Are we going to show this to Bobby?"  
  
"Not yet, lets wait and see what results today's investigation brings."  
  
"Where do we start?" Doug asked.  
  
"We start by pulling down every bit of information we've managed to collect. I want it all on the table, we're going to go through it with a fine tooth comb." He looked at each of them in turn. "If we've missed anything, it's time we find it."  
  
* * *  
  
The room was dark when Eugene opened the door, even though it was mid morning. "Bobby?" He asked.  
  
"I'm awake." Came the quiet reply.  
  
"What are you doing?" Taking a few steps inside the room he left the door open, so the light from outside illuminated it.  
  
"Thinking." The sheets rustled, as Bobby sat up, leaning against the headboard.  
  
"What about?" Walking over to the window, Eugene pulled the curtains apart and watched as sunlight flooded in. When Bobby didn't answer he turned back around. "Did you have another dream?"  
  
"No." There was such desolation when he spoke, such heartache, that Eugene could almost hear the tears in Bobby's voice.  
  
"You don't remember it?"  
  
He looked over, blinking against the morning light. And his eyes when they met Eugene's were bleak. "There's nothing to remember. There was no dream."  
  
Over the last few days Eugene had watched Bobby run through an entire array of emotions, from anguish to despair, to wild grief, and he hoped he'd helped with them all. But he had no idea how to help with the empty look Bobby gave him now. "I think she's dead." He heard Bobby say.  
  
Because they were words he'd said himself less than twenty four hours ago, he found it just that bit harder to offer support. But still he tried. "You don't really think that Bobby. You're upset and you're scared, and maybe you're over reacting to the situation. But don't start thinking the worst. You have to stay positive."  
  
"How?" His hair, already unruly was made more so when he ran his fingers through it. "You don't believe in my dreams, I know that Eugene. You, Helen, and probably everyone else think it's just something I've come up with to keep Lindsay close to me. But I know what I saw." Pulling his knees up he wrapped his arms around them and rocked. "I know what I felt. Lindsay was asking me for help, she was reaching out to me, and I've tried everything I could to connect with her and I can't."  
  
There was self recrimination and misery lacing his voice. "I don't know how to reach her. I don't know how to help her."  
  
"I think you're trying too hard, Bobby. Let the F.B.I do their job. Let them find Lindsay. But don't give up hope." He looked at the calendar on the far wall. "They still have time."  
  
"Time?" A note of hysteria bubbled in Bobby's throat, his first real show of emotion since Eugene had entered the room. "It's been six days. Six days Eugene." The emotion left him as quickly as it had arrived and his body slumped in defeat. "Time's nearly out."  
  
Not knowing exactly what to do or say, Eugene reached out and gave Bobby's shoulder a quick shake. "Listen to me Bobby." He gave another shake when he didn't get a reaction, and waited until Bobby's eyes met his. "You can't do this, not to yourself and not to Lindsay. When you went missing a few years ago, when you were taken by Patrick Rooney, Lindsay didn't give up on you. She was scared, and she cried and occasionally she yelled, but she always believed you were going to be alright." He watched tears enter Bobby's eyes. "You owe that to her as well."  
  
Sick at heart, Bobby leaned his head back against the headboard. "But why didn't I dream? That has to mean something."   
  
"I don't have any answers for you one that." Eugene sighed. "Why don't I give Agent Mulder a call, see if he can help you out?"  
  
"Okay."  
  
It took Eugene a few moments to locate Mulder's business card and the portable phone, he found the first on the coffee table, the second was wedged behind the cushion of the couch. He waited the three rings it took for the call to be connected.   
  
"Mulder."  
  
"Agent Mulder, it's Eugene Young."  
  
"Hey." Mulder stepped away from the noise of the conversation going on around him. "Is everything alright?"  
  
"Well…. Not exactly." Wandering over to the window he looked outside, at the people below and wondered why life had to be so complicated. "Bobby didn't have a dream last night. About Lindsay." He clarified. "And now he's worried that she's…. Well that she may not be alive."  
  
"Oh." Mulder turned his back to the room as he felt a wave of disappointment. He'd been hoping Bobby could supply another piece to the puzzle they were trying to assemble.   
  
"I was hoping you could talk to him." Eugene continued, oblivious. "Maybe reassure him?"  
  
"Sure, put him on."  
  
Closing his eyes in relief, Eugene nodded. "He's just in the other room, I'll get him." Quickly he walked up the hall and back into Bobby's bedroom. "It's Agent Mulder." He said, holding out the phone.  
  
There was trepidation in Bobby as he reached for it. "Hello?"  
  
"Eugene told me you didn't have a dream."  
  
He clutched the receiver until his knuckles turned white. "What do you think that means?"  
  
Mulder heard the plea, and he answered it. "It probably doesn't mean anything."  
  
"But…" People kept telling him that, but how could they know?  
  
He heard Mulder sigh. "We received another clue today. There was a photo in it. Lindsay was alive in the picture Bobby, her eyes were open."  
  
"Really?" The first trace of a smile, appeared on his face. For the first time that morning he allowed himself the luxury of hope. "Was it taken today?"  
  
"We can't tell that. But it's my opinion that it's recent. Very recent." He moved the phone to the other ear, and turned to watch everyone pouring over the information they'd gathered, looking for anything they might have missed. "We're still looking Bobby. So hang in there."  
  
"I will."  
  
"That's good. I have to get back to this, but we'll call you if we turn up anything alright?"  
  
"Thank you."  
  
"No problem."  
  
When he heard the dial tone, he reached out and hung up the phone, dropping it on the bed beside him. Eugene was staring at him, silently asking the question. "They received another photo Eugene. Just this morning, he said not to give up hope." He paused, then looked down at the bed. "I just don't know how much longer I can stand this. The not knowing."  
  
Eugene reached out a comforting arm, and thought to himself that one way or the other that wasn't going to be a problem for very much longer.  
  
* * *  
  
Putting the phone back in his pocket, Mulder reclaimed his seat. The table in front of him was a mess, filled from side to side with notes, and maps and photos. Emails, surveillance tapes, interview transcripts and autopsy reports, all vied for space. It was a lot of information, gathered over a short amount of time, and yet still not enough. The key to the mystery had to be in there somewhere, he believed that, and because he did he felt the weight of guilt settle on him. If it turned out they'd been staring at the answer the entire time…. Well, he shook his head, and purposely cleared his mind. Thoughts like that weren't going to help bring Lindsay back any faster.  
  
"Let's sort this out" He said, motioning to the collection in front of him. "I don't want to look at it in days anymore, like we've been doing. Sort it into like groups, all the notes from Ed in one, the photo's in another, etc. We'll each take a pile and see what we make of it." When the evidence was sorted, he watched as everyone grabbed for a pile, and was mildly bemused when he found himself left with the autopsy report. He looked over at Scully, who had claimed the interview transcript. "Shouldn't you get this one?"  
  
"I've already read it." She said, without looking at him.  
  
A small sigh escaped. "Okay, fine." Looking to everyone, he continued. "If you find you aren't getting anywhere with your pile swap with someone else. Take notes, and don't be afraid to offer suggestions, the littlest thing may help." When everyone nodded their understanding, he clapped his hands together. "Alright, lets get to work."  
  
* * *  
  
Edmund regarded Lindsay from his vantage point on the chair. She'd kept the same position as the one she'd been in when he'd entered, face half buried, her body turned towards the wall. He wondered how long she could ignore him, and then decided he wasn't feeling patient enough to find out.  
  
"You broke my nose." Lifting a hand up to it now, he checked to make sure there was no additional swelling and cursed softly when he felt the puffy area just below his eyes. The two ice bags he'd kept applied all night had reduced the worst of it, but hadn't taken away the deep purple bruising that spread from his nose to his cheeks.   
When she finally turned towards him he took consolation in the thick finger shaped bruises on her throat.   
  
Her own eyes were puffy from crying and ringed in red. He would have taken pleasure in the fact that she'd finally bent enough to lose control, but for the defiant set of her head. Even with the tear tracks still staining her cheeks she didn't look weak, she didn't look broken. The heated gaze she sent him and the glimmer of satisfaction that caused one side of her mouth to turn up slightly as she took in his bandaged features had him gritting his teeth. Her own face now bare from where he'd ripped away the dressing, looked calm and gave away none of the emotions she must have been feeling when she cried. If she was sad or scared at that moment he couldn't tell.  
  
When she opened her mouth to talk, her voice was hoarse but steady. "What day is it?"  
  
Even after all this time, he never knew what to expect from her. "Tuesday."  
  
Her heart sank at the news, and the constant pounding of the headache that was always present, kicked into higher gear. There was tension in every muscle in her body, but she was determined not let him see it. If she was to die tomorrow, and she was beginning to believe she would, he'd never know how scared she really was. There was so little of the situation that she could control, but she could control that.  
  
Raising her chin a notch she struggled to keep her voice even. "What time tomorrow?"  
  
She was asking him when she was going to die, and staring daggers at him at the same time. God he admired her! "Do you really want to know?"  
  
When she thought about it she decided she didn't. "No."  
  
Inclining his head to acknowledge her answer, he changed the subject. "What would you like for dinner tonight?"  
  
How was she meant to think about food now? Really, how was she meant to think about anything. Lifting a shoulder in what she'd hoped to be a casual gesture, but because of the awkwardness of her position, instead came across as clumsy, she replied. "I'll leave that up to you."  
  
"Really?" His own discomfort at his injury forgotten, he leaned forward. "No last request?"  
  
"Sure, let me go."  
  
He let out high pitched chuckle. "I meant for food."  
  
"Then no."  
  
Leaning back he regarded her intensely. "You're an intriguing individual Lindsay. I must say under different circumstances I would have really enjoyed getting to know you better."  
  
Her skin crawled and her teeth clenched. "I wouldn't want to know you under any circumstances."  
  
Slapping a hand on his knee in delight, he beamed at her. "I knew you were going to say that."  
  
"So tell me." Waving a hand at her he settled more comfortably in the chair. "If you could say anything to your family before you die, any message that you'd want passed on to your son or your husband what would it be?"  
  
That she loved them, that she missed them, that they lit up her life and made everything she'd ever done, everything she did now worthwhile. That she would wait for them forever. "I'd tell them to watch where they were walking."  
  
His eyebrow quirked, and something dangerous flashed in his eyes as they met hers. "Well maybe I'll tell them for you."  
  
* * *  
  
Adam looked up from the photos he'd been staring at and tried to refocus his eyes. "Maybe Lindsay's trying to communicate with us through these pictures. You know send us a silent message or something." He didn't direct the comment at anyone in general, just looked around the room.  
  
Doug paused the surveillance tape he'd just started watching. "That would be an interesting trick considering she's unconscious in two out of the three of them."  
  
"Well maybe she isn't really unconscious. Maybe that's part of the message."  
  
Mike, who'd been rereading the notes he'd made about the interview transcript looked up. "Why would she pretend to be unconscious? What sort of message are we meant to get from that?"  
  
"I don't know." Adam let out a frustrated sigh, and pushed the photo's away. "I can't get anything out of these. Who want's to swap?"   
  
Mulder looked up and quickly raised his hand, but Mike beat him too it, by grabbing the pictures and pulling them in front of him. He handed Adam his sheets of paper. "I will, I'm not having much luck with that either, but I made some notes."  
  
Mulder glared at both of them, and then at Scully for good measure, who had moved on to Edmund's clues. When everyone ignored him he went back to reading the autopsy report.   
  
* * *  
  
Helen tapped a pen against the surface of her desk, and tried to concentrate. The words on the sheet of paper in front of her blurred as she rubbed at her tired eyes. Part of her knew that she shouldn't even have bothered to come into work today, the other part knew that if she didn't at least make the effort, it wouldn't be that much longer before she didn't have a job to come into. Still how did anyone expect her to be productive when her best friend was now down to a 24 hour countdown?   
  
She wondered for a moment, as her mind continued to drift, just why it was that Lindsay always seemed to be in the midst of such potentially harmful situations. She'd been stabbed, she'd been stalked, now she was kidnapped. Realistically she understood that sometimes bad things happened to good people, but at what point did it become too much? Not just for the person involved but for those they loved.   
  
Live or die, would any of them ever be the same again?  
  
Shaking her head, she once again looked at the work in front of her, but there were no words there, only lines of ink she had no immediate interest in. Could any of this have been prevented? Bobby said Lindsay had been spooked the day before she'd been taken, the last time Helen had seen her, she'd been preoccupied about running into someone. Were all the signs there and they'd ignored them? Would Lindsay be safe at home now if everyone including herself had just paid that little bit more attention? Was asking herself any of these questions solving anything?  
  
Probably not, she conceded.  
  
Reaching up with one hand she rubbed the bridge of her nose, her chair gave a warning squeak as she leaned back in it, she didn't want to think about maybe's and what if's. Thinking of better possibilities, just made it that much harder to return to the reality of the situation. As a D.A. nobody knew better than her that good didn't always win out in the end, and after her conversation with Eugene yesterday, one she was really beginning to wish she'd never had at all, she wasn't quite as successful at convincing herself that it would now.   
  
She wanted to do something, the inactivity on her behalf was driving her crazy. Mike got to assist in the investigation. Eugene and Rebecca practically had full time jobs looking after Bobby. Lucy and Jimmy got to keep the firm running and Ellenor was doing a bang up job of looking after Rob. Meanwhile she got to go to the office and pretend to work. She was used to leading the charge, used to knowing what was happening, she wanted to be able to participate, to feel she was doing something to bring her friend home, instead of waiting around for the phone to ring, or worse for it not to.  
  
Flipping the file in front of her closed she gave up even the pretence of doing anything. She couldn't be here any longer. She didn't know exactly where she should go, or what she would do when she got there, but she knew she had to leave. She grabbed her coat as she circled her desk and locked the door as she left to go ….. somewhere.   
  
Anywhere, she thought, that wasn't here.   
  
  
* * *  
  
"Okay that's it." The tech, who'd been working in the background the entire time they'd been researching walked over and tapped Mulder on the shoulder.   
  
"What'd you find?" Grateful to be focusing on anything else, Mulder threw the file on the table in front of him and turned around.   
  
"You were right. He attached a virus to your email, he's been able to read everything you sent out."  
  
It was exactly what he'd been expecting but still managed to feel a wave of disappointment in himself for not anticipating the move. "Can you get rid of it?"  
  
"Already done." He crouched down to pack up his tools. "The whole systems clean now. You're fine to send anything out."  
  
"Thanks but I don't think…." He paused when Scully interrupted him.  
  
"Mulder, can you look at this."  
  
Giving the tech a smile of thanks, Mulder rolled his chair closer to Scully. "What have you got?"  
  
She pushed the map of Boston that Adam had arranged for them, a little further away to allow him some space. "I've been studying these clues." Sitting back slightly, she pushed her glasses further up her nose. "We mostly just took them on a day to day basis, but I've been playing with putting them all together, mixing up the order, that sort of thing."  
  
"I tried that too." Mike said. Looking up from the photo's he'd been staring at.  
  
"Yes." She acknowledged Mike with a nod before turning back to Mulder. "I didn't get anywhere with that. So I started breaking them down piece by piece and I think I've been more successful." She pushed them towards him. "Read them as if they were one message." She said.  
  
"Okay." He pulled the pieces of paper closer.  
  
"As I sit and wait, the clock hand turns,  
You'll find me near where the grad student learns.  
An institution located on the Charles River, or near,  
Borders a suburb, you'll find me here.  
  
To assist in your attempts I offer this clue  
We're located in plain site, but she's hidden from view,   
She can scream and scream but you'll hear no sound  
You'll have to pay attention if she's to be found.  
  
The time draws near and no sign of you yet  
Drive to far to the north and you'll get wet.  
To far to the east and you're on the wrong track  
Keep going South and you'll have to turn back.  
  
The place you need stops with an End  
It contains a place where people tend.  
I've given you the clues to help Lindsay survive,  
Find her before tomorrow or she won't be alive."  
  
He finished reading and looked up at her. "What have you come up with?"  
  
"Right." She pulled the map closer to her. "I think we were on the right track with the first verse investigating the universities." She used a black marker to circle the ones they'd visited. "And Bobby's dreams, if we factor them into the evidence we've collected support the theory that Lindsay's being held in a sound proof basement of a house. So that's the second clue."  
  
"Alright." Mulder agreed.  
  
"But here's where I think we went wrong." With the end of the marker she tapped the third clue. "I don't think he was telling us to go west at all."  
  
"Why." Adam asked, giving up on the interview transcript in favour of their conversation.   
  
Turning the pages to the centre of the table so that everyone could see them, she asked. "Do you see anything different about today's clue?"  
  
Adam scanned down the text. "No."  
  
"I didn't at first either, because I was so busy focussing on what the words said that I wasn't looking at the words." Still using the marker as a pointer she touched it to the top line. "See how the last word of this line starts with a capital letter?"  
  
"It could just be a typing mistake." Doug suggested.   
  
"No, Edmund's too particular to make typing errors." Mulder said, shaking his head. He turned to Scully. "What's your theory, Scully?"  
  
"Well I really do think he's given us all the information Mulder, we just needed the last piece of the puzzle to put it all together." She tapped the fourth clue. "Clue one points us to the universities." She pointed to the circles she'd drawn. "Clue three tells us directions. Drive north and you'll get wet. Which means it's south of the river, so we can cross out these two." She put a cross through, MIT and Cambridge. "That leaves us with Boston University and Suffolk. Now it also tells us not to go east or south, which is when we decided we should be heading west. But if you look back at clue number one, it says he's in a suburb bordering a university. Not the university itself. So lets widen the area around these two." She drew two larger circles and sat back. "Does anyone else see anything in the circle that contains the word End?"  
  
"West End." Doug murmured. "God." He banged his fist on the table. "It's so easy when you have the answer."  
  
Scully nodded. "The rest of today's clue says it contains a place where people tend. Massachusetts General Hospital is in West End. He has to be there Mulder. I think we had the right idea yesterday when we canvassed all the surrounding streets near North Eastern, we were just canvassing the wrong university."   
  
"I think you're right Scully." He looked down at the evidence in front of him and could find no flaws in her logic. "We need to get out there. Canvas every street in that suburb. Everybody goes in pairs, one drives the other looks for all the signs Bobby gave us." He looked at Mike. "Can you get us some more men?"  
  
"Sure."  
  
"Great, no uniforms and unmarked cars only." Borrowing the pen from Scully, he started to draw lines through the map. "We'll each take a section, drive at a steady pace, if Ed has security monitoring the street we don't want him to get suspicious. And lets all keep radio contact open." Holding up the map, this time he addressed Adam. "Do you have any more of these?"   
  
"I can get some."  
  
"Okay then." Taking the one on the table with him, he stood. "Lets get moving."  
  
* * *  
  
"Helen." Eugene opened the door wider and moved aside so she could enter. "What are you doing here?"  
  
She shrugged out of her jacket. "I couldn't concentrate on work. Thought I'd go for a drive and ended up here." She looked around the apartment. Eugene had obviously been doing some cleaning. "Where's Bobby?"  
  
Eugene closed the door and then lead the way into the kitchen. "You want some coffee?" She nodded and he set the kettle to boil. "He's in the shower. He's having a difficult time getting moving today."  
  
"Well that's understandable I guess."  
  
"Yeah." He sighed, and pulled out two mugs from the cupboard beside the sink. Adding coffee and sugar he waited for the water to boil. "It's more than that. He didn't have a dream about Lindsay last night. He's got himself convinced that means something's already happened too her."  
  
Her eyebrows rose. "Really?"  
  
Nodding, he passed her the now full cup. "He was pretty out of it this morning. Agent Mulder had a talk with him over the phone that seemed to cheer him up a bit. But the later it gets in the day, the more he starts to worry."  
  
She blew over the rim of the mug, before taking her first sip. "What'd Agent Mulder say?"  
  
"Apparently they received another photo of Lindsay. Agent Mulder's convinced she's still alive."  
  
"What about you Eugene. Do you still think she's dead?"  
  
"I don't know what to think." He leant against the kitchen bench holding his mug in both hands. "I guess if they've got a new photo that's good news, if it was taken today. But even if she is still alive now, Helen, times really running out. There's not getting past that."  
  
"I know. It's all I've been able to think about all day. Which is why I'm no longer at work." She set her cup down and linked her hands together. "I don't suppose you'd mind if I hung out here for awhile?"  
  
"Truthfully." Eugene looked up the empty hallway. "I'd appreciate the company."  
  
* * *  
  
Taking a right turn, Adam drove down the sixth street in his assigned area. Doug looked from side to side at each house they passed. They were moving at a steady pace, not too slow that it looked suspicious but not so fast that they'd miss any details. They were three houses from the end when Doug reached over and tapped him on the arm.  
  
"How about that one?"   
  
Adam looked at the small brick house, with it's front hedge of white roses and tidy lawn. Careful not to slow down at all he looked to the other side of the road, and the house surrounded by a white picket fence. "Looks promising."  
  
Doug nodded. "You'd better keep going. Turn into the next street." He waited until Adam made the turn and pulled the car over before reaching for the radio. "Agent Mulder, it's Agent Griffin. I think we've found it."  
  
* * *  
  
Mulder focussed the binoculars on the house in question and nodded. "That's it Scully, I know it is."  
  
She reached over and took them from him, leaning on the hood of the car as she looked through them. They were gathered in the adjoining street, six houses down from the corner. "I does fit the descriptions we were given. But we have to be sure Mulder. We cant just go around breaking down innocent peoples doors." She sent him a mild look when she anticipated an argument, and handed him back the binoculars. "Besides, if we go in there sirens blazing and it is the wrong house, if Edmund's anywhere in the proximity and he heres what's happening he may act before we find him."  
  
"I hadn't planned to go in sirens blazing, but I get your point." Signalling to Mike, he called him over. "I want you to go and get Bobby Donnell. Bring him down here, drive him right by the house, don't slow down, he's only going to get one chance to look at it." He turned back to Scully. "If he identifies it we're going in. We can't afford to wait forever."  
  
When she nodded, he turned to Adam and Doug. "I want SWAT teams and paramedics on stand by, make sure nobody uses the siren. Everyone wears vests when we enter, we're not taking any chances with this guy. Suit up now, I want us to be ready."  
  
When everyone ran off to jump in cars or make calls, he picked up the binoculars and making them to zoom in, prepared to wait.  
  
* * *  
  
"That's the one." Opening the door before Mike had come to a complete stop, Bobby clamoured out of the car. Momentarily losing his footing as his feet his the ground, he stumbled for a couple of steps, righted himself and hurried over to Mulder and Scully. Eugene and Helen were right behind him.  
  
"That's the house I saw in my dream. Lindsay's in there you have to get her out."  
  
"That's the plan Bobby. Are you sure it's the right house. We need you to be certain before we go in."  
  
"I'm positive, it's the one."   
  
Mulder took a moment to look him in the eye, then nodded. "Alright." Turning he called over the leader of the SWAT team, who was standing a few meters away. "Do you have a plan of attack?"  
  
"We can get access to the back of the house from the property behind it. Give my men a couple of minutes to get in position and then when they give the signal, we'll hit the front and the back simultaneously. Surprise will be the key."  
  
"Okay." Mulder turned to Doug and Adam. "You two go through the back as well. Let the SWAT guys go in first. We'll go through the front."   
  
Bobby stepped forward and grabbed Mulder's arm. "I want to go with you."  
  
"No." Mulder's voice was firm but understanding. "It's too dangerous. We don't know what we'll be walking into." He pried Bobby's fingers off him. "If Lindsay's in there we'll bring her out to you. But you need wait here." There was a group of officers that had helped with the search mulling around near the cars, Mulder caught the attention of one, a huge mountain of a man, and called him over. Scanning the name tag he said. "Officer Cleary, nobody is to approach that house until we give the all clear. I'm leaving you in charge of making sure everyone stays here, can you do that?" Cleary nodded, and Mulder turned towards the SWAT commander.   
  
"Get your men in position."   
  
* * *  
  
As quietly as they could they surrounded the house. Crouching over the front lawn, and jumping back fences they approached. Halfway to their destination the alarm sounded in the house. Caught in the short hallway between the living room and the kitchen, Edmund blinked in surprise and then realising what was about to happen, darted for the first weapon that was available to him. The knife block on the kitchen counter.   
  
His hand drew around the hilt of the closest knife to him and he pulled it free of the wood. It was smaller than he would have liked, and certainly if he had more time to choose he might have gone back for the carving knife, but time was a luxury he could ill afford now. Straining his neck he peered towards the front of the house and wondered at his ability to reach the trapdoor to the basement, just as the door behind him was pounded open. Wood splintered with the force of the ramming rod and Edmund hunched his back and turned away from it to shield his body. Noise was all around him, footsteps stampeding from in from the front as well as behind, as he bent low at the knees shielding the knife. Then there were voices, edgy, commanding voices telling him to remain still, and to bring his hands out where they could be seen.   
  
Taking the only opportunity he thought he would get, he moved quickly, hooking the knife in the loop of his pants, and still bent over he held both hands out, keeping them close to his side, as if in surrender. Then just as the first officer stepped closer he swivelled, using his right hand to reach for the weapon, his sight was obscured and his knife was small but his aim was direct as he lunged, felt the blade tear material and hit the strong sturdy surface of Kevlar. Though uninjured, the man he'd attacked at took a step back out of reflex, away from the knife and Ed kept his hand on the hilt in an attempt to retrieve it. When he felt the cold metal of the gun barrel at his temple he froze.  
  
"Let it go."  
  
He couldn't see the person who had given the command, but he knew the voice. Not moving his hand or his head a millimetre, he countered. "And if I don't?"  
  
The definitive sound of the safety being flicked back was his only answer.   
  
Edmund widened his fingers as he let go of the knife, moved his hands away from his body in a show of defeat. "You've got me Agent Mulder." He felt the slight movement of the gun away from him and couldn't resist one last barb. "For now."  
  
The gun was placed very firmly back against his skull. "Are you going to shoot me Agent Mulder?" There was a taunt in Edmund's voice. A challenge. "Is this how it ends between us? With you becoming me?" Nothing would have delighted him more. He wanted to turn his head, look Mulder in the eye, but the barrel of the gun prohibited the movement. He settled for a quiet snicker.   
  
He was still half bent, half crouched in his original position, and if he rolled his eyes upward he could just see the faces of three officers in front of him, weapons drawn. They waited, as did he for some sign, some action from Mulder, a decision to be made. But it wasn't Mulder who broke the silence.  
  
"Mulder." Stepping forward, Scully wrapped her fingers around Mulder's wrist, she felt the tension in the arm beneath hers. Could see the strain in the fingers that curled around the trigger. "Don't."  
  
She could see as no-one else in the room could the battle that raged inside him. Knew that this case more than any other had reminded him of his never ending search for his sister. Realised that part of him wanted to punish as he hadn't been able to then. And understood the consequences such actions would have for him.   
  
Tightening her grip on his wrist, she gave it a light squeeze. "This isn't you." Beneath her hand she felt some of the tension drain, but it wasn't until he took a small step back that she allowed a breath of relief. She watched as he carefully lowered his weapon and then she nodded to Doug and the closest officer to him. Immediately Edmund was pushed roughly to the ground, and with orders of 'Lie still'; 'Don't move'; and 'Keep your hands where we can see them', was handcuffed and searched. Scully's eyes never left Mulder.   
  
Pulling something out of Edmund's pocket, Doug turned towards them. "It's a key." He said to Scully as he handed it too her. And then when they didn't turn up anything else, he was pulled too his feet and held securely. For the first time in nine years, Edmund and Mulder came face to face.   
  
Cold blue eyes, met stormy hazel ones.   
  
Neither spoke a word, but messages were conveyed on both sides. Mulder was the first to look away, he looked at Scully drew strength from knowing she'd pulled him back from the edge, before turning towards the other occupants in the room. "Take him away." He said. "I want this house secure. Have we found the access to the basement?"  
  
With a heavy rug pushed aside at his feet, one of the officers piped up from his left. "I think it's down here."   
  
Mulder nodded as he walked in that direction, Scully fell in step beside him, and he waved his hand at Mike. "Detective, you'd better come with us." He looked at the trapdoor carved into the floorboards beside his feet and finding the latch pulled it open. Stepping down on the stairwell below, he looked over at the officer. "We're going down, you'd better get the paramedics in here."  
  
"Yes sir."  
  
"And can someone please turn off that alarm?" When the officer nodded, he started his descent.  
  
It was dark at the bottom of the stairs, he moved to one side to allow Scully and Mike a place to stand on the small landing, and started to feel the wall in front of him for a door handle. Scully produced a small flashlight, and began her own search in systematic movements. They both found what they were looking for at the same time. Handing Mulder the key, Scully kept the light fixed on the lock. It turned easily and pulling the latch, Mulder released the door and took a step inside.  
  
* * *  
  
"What's taking so long?" Straining to see and not even attempting to hide his impatience Bobby whirled on Eugene and Helen.  
  
"I don't know Bobby. I'm sure they're just being careful." Eugene lay a sympathetic hand on Bobby's shoulder only to have it shrugged off.   
  
"I can't stand this. I need too….." He broke off as the radio of one of the police officers crackled to life.   
  
"The suspect has been apprehended. I repeat the suspect is in custody."  
  
A general cheer arose from the accumulated group. Bobby tuned it out. He turned towards Cleary, and demanded. "How's Lindsay? My wife, how is she?"  
  
"I don't know Sir. If you could just be patient I'm sure they'll let us know as soon as they can."  
  
"No I'm through with waiting. Ask them about Lindsay."  
  
"Sir, I…."  
  
Near breaking point, Bobby reached out and gripped the front of the Cleary's uniform. "Pick up the radio and ask them now."  
  
Waving away the officers who were stepping in to assist, Cleary reached over to unhook Bobby's fingers and after a brief moment of considerations pulled out his radio. "Captain, this is Sargent Cleary. Mr Donnell's asking about the status of his wife, do we have any information?"  
  
There was a brief pause, that to Bobby felt like a hundred years, then finally. "Negative, the F.B.I.'s down there now. Paramedic's have been requested, send them over."  
  
"Roger that."  
  
"I'm going too." Bobby was already moving forward before Cleary's large hand reached over and held him back.   
  
"Captain, can Mr Donnell come over?"  
  
Another pause, more static, then. "Affirmative, but to the front yard only. Do not enter the premises."  
  
Cleary looked at Bobby, his restraining hand remaining in place. "You heard the man, you're not to enter the house, do you understand that Mr Donnell?"  
  
"Sure. Okay." Bobby would have agreed to anything to get him closer to Lindsay. "Can we go?"  
  
Cleary gave him a measuring look and then nodded. "Yes you can, I'll walk you over myself."  
  
* * *  
  
They saw her immediately as they entered the dimly lit room. She was where Edmund had left her, propped up against the headboard, hands and feet still bound together. Scully watched Lindsay's head jerk with surprise on their entrance, saw the expression in her eyes turn from wary to shocked and then fill with relief when comprehension dawned. She nudged Mulder to the side and moved closer to the bed.   
  
"Lindsay, my names Agent Scully, this is my partner Agent Mulder, and I believe you already know Detective McGuire?" She spoke softly, keeping her voice reassuring. As carefully as she could she started to untie the ropes binding Lindsay's wrists together, while Lindsay's eyes darted between the three of them, then came back to rest on Scully. "We've come to take you home." Scully said. "You're safe now."  
  
Scully's words finally managed to penetrate the shock in Lindsay's mind. "Is he dead?"  
  
"No." With more understanding than Lindsay could ever know, Scully gave her a sympathetic smile. "He's been taken into custody." Finally wrestling the knot undone, she carefully peeled away the ropes, wincing a little at the broken skin beneath them.   
  
Lindsay did her best to ignore the pain. "Bobby?"  
  
"He's right outside Lindsay." Taking a small step forward and feeling utterly useless in the wake of his friends condition, Mike continued. "We'll take you out to him. He's right outside." He repeated.  
  
"I need to see him." Tears, some of relief, some of pain, and some of exhaustion, tracked silently down her cheeks. "Please, can I see him now?"  
  
Freeing the knot at Lindsay's ankles, Scully unwound that rope as well. "We're taking you out now." She turned to Mulder who'd been standing silently off to the side. "We're not going to be able to get a gurney down those stairs."  
  
"Maybe a stretcher." He suggested.  
  
"No." Lindsay interrupted them as she moved carefully to the side of the bed. "I don't want a stretcher, I can walk." She stood slowly, swayed a little, then lent on Scully until she got her bearings. "I'm alright." She said, when Scully tried to ease her back down. "I can't be in this room any longer. I can walk." She said again.  
  
Not entirely convinced, but understanding completely, Scully nodded. "Alright."  
  
But when she went to move into position, Mike took another step closer. "It's alright I'll help her." He wrapped his arm lightly around Lindsay's waist, and gently started moving her towards the open door. "Come on Lindsay, lets get you out of here."  
  
Scully watched their slow progress and then turned to Mulder. "You've been unusually quiet."  
  
"Have a look at this room Scully. It's exactly as he described it. Exactly." Careful not to touch anything, Mulder used his toe to nudge the blue chair. "I didn't really believe it until I stepped in here."  
  
Scully reached out and lightly touched the back of his hand. "Yes you did." She gave him a small smile, and then turned and followed Mike and Lindsay up the stairs.  
  
* * *  
  
The sunlight hurt her eyes as they wheeled her outside. She'd been placed on a gurney as soon as she'd reached the top of the staircase despite her protests. She'd wanted to walk outside, to hold Bobby as she'd been dreaming of doing for days, and hear him tell her everything was going to be alright. She thought she might believe the words if they came from him.   
  
Her good eye blinked against the harsh light, a sea of faces that greeted her in the crowd that gathered outside, but she was only interested in one. Then she saw him break through, watched him run towards her, with worry and relief both so plainly etched in his expression and she wanted to cry again.   
  
"Lindsay." He didn't know where to touch her, where it was safe too, she was so battered and bruised, so he settled for her left forearm. "I'm right here, honey. I'm here."  
  
"Bobby." The restraints on the gurney meant she could only lift her head a fraction, but it was enough. "Don't leave me."  
  
He kept pace with the paramedics as they walked towards the waiting ambulance. He knew Eugene and Helen were somewhere behind him, but he didn't think of them now, only of Lindsay. "I'm not going anywhere."  
  
"I'm so tired." Now that she'd seen him the full shock of her rescue was starting to settle in, her mind was going fuzzy, her bones felt like jelly.  
  
When they stopped to load her into the ambulance he placed a light kiss on the top of her head. "Go to sleep Lindsay, I'll be here when you wake up."  
  
"Promise?"  
  
The quiet plea in her voice broke his heart. Swallowing back tears he nodded. "I promise. Everything's okay now." She'd been right, was her last cohesive thought as she tumbled into sleep, she did believe it when he said it. Bobby watched her eyelids flutter closed as they slid the gurney inside and locked it into place, then stepped inside after her, careful to keep out of the way of the paramedic beside him, and watched her sleep.  
  
* * *  
  
"When can we see him?" Mulder stopped fiddling with the little flashlight, as Scully entered the room.  
  
"We can't." Scully answered. "At least not straight away." She carried a medical file that she opened and referred to. "Edmund's nose has been broken, there was no sign of a fracture on the x-ray that was taken, so at the moment the best guess is it's either in the upper nasal cartilage or the nasal septum."  
  
"Best guess?" Mulder asked. "We're in a hospital and all you can give me is a best guess?"  
  
"You can't x-ray cartilage Mulder, and at the moment there's too much swelling to do a proper examination. There's also been some bleeding, which if it continues may result in a septal hematoma. But again until we get the swelling down it's impossible to tell."  
  
"How long will that take?"  
  
She sighed and was again reminded that patience had never been his strong suit. "They've packed it so hopefully by tomorrow morning they'll know more. In the mean time they also gave him something for the pain, so he wont be in any condition to answer any questions at the moment."  
  
"So we can't question him until tomorrow?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
He let out a huge sigh. "That bites, Scully."  
  
Smiling at him, she closed the folder. "He's not going anywhere Mulder. The answers will still be there tomorrow."  
  
"I know." But he didn't have to be happy about the delay. "So how's Lindsay?"  
  
"I just checked on her before coming in here. She's still asleep, most of her injuries where fairly minor, but they're keeping her overnight for observation as well."  
  
"So basically we have nothing to do now until tomorrow?"  
  
"Basically." She agreed.  
  
"What do we do now?"  
  
She looked down at her watch. "Well considering it's nearly seven, and I haven't eaten anything all day, you could buy me dinner."  
  
"Isn't it your turn to buy?" He questioned, cocking his head to the side.  
  
"No."  
  
His eyebrows rose in surprise. "That's it? Just no, you're not going to give any supporting evidence to back it up?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Alright." He shrugged.  
  
"Great. I'm starving, lets go back to that place that served the big steaks."  
  
"You're going to send me poor, Scully." Mulder complained, half heartedly.  
  
"I think your budget can stretch to a steak, Mulder."  
  
He reached for the door, but paused before opening it. "You did good work today Scully. Analysing the clues, putting them all together….. Well it was really good work." He finished.  
  
She smiled up at him. "Thanks."  
  
"So." Slightly uncomfortable, he pulled open the door and stepped through. "A steak, huh? Sure you don't just want a burger?"  
  
Still smiling, Scully shook her head. "I'm sure."  
  
* * *  
  
He'd kept his promise.   
  
She blinked a couple of times to clear her vision, and focused on his face. He was staring at her, gently holding her newly bandaged hand, his cheeks covered with five o'clock shadow, his hair tousled, and his eyes warm.   
  
"Hey." He lifted the hand that he held higher, and kissed the tips of her fingers. "I missed you."  
  
Could she possibly love him any more? She didn't see how. "I missed you too." Still groggy she looked around the room. "What time is it?"  
  
"Nearly eight. You've been out for a couple of hours."  
  
"Really?" It felt like she'd barely slept at all.  
  
He nodded and she could see the worry still shadowing his eyes. "How do you feel."  
  
That was a good question, she wasn't really sure of the answer. "My head hurts a little."  
  
He nodded. "The doctor said you had a slight concussion, you've also got ten stiches in your wrist." He gently touched the edge of the bandage. "They put butterfly clips on the cut beside your eye, apart from that they think all the bruising should go down in a few days. They want to keep you overnight."  
  
She nodded, and because the movement caused more pain, winced.   
  
"Careful" He said, then stopped when his voice cracked. Closing his eyes he fought the battle for control and finally won. "I was so scared." He said, when he trusted himself to speak again.  
  
"Me too." She could admit it now, to him, even when she hadn't been able to admit it to herself while she'd been captive. "He was going to kill me."  
  
The way she said it so matter of factly, nearly broke him. "I know." And because he couldn't hold back anymore, he gathered her into his arms and held her tight, breathing in the scent of her. "I know." He repeated.  
  
She clung to him, burying her face in his neck and savouring the feel of his arms around her. It wasn't a feeling she'd ever again be able to take for granted. "I love you Bobby." She'd been so scared she'd never get to say those words again.  
  
Or to hear them. "I love you too. So much." They were both crying when they pulled apart.  
  
She brushed a hand over his shoulder. "I got your shirt wet."  
  
"Doesn't matter, I've got more." Reaching for the box of tissues beside her bed he offered her one, and then took one for himself. "I don't suppose you're up for some guests? The whole gangs out in the waiting room."  
  
"Really?" She dabbed at her eyes, then blew her nose.  
  
He nodded. "Yeah as soon as they heard you were here, they shut up the office, Ellenor packed up the kids, they've been in the waiting room all afternoon."  
  
"Robbie's here?" She'd resigned herself to not being able to see him until she was released, just the idea that he was here lifted her heart. "Can I see him?"  
  
"If you're feeling okay, I can send them all home if you're too tired."  
  
"I'll be okay." The need to hold him overshadowed her fatigue.  
  
"Alright." Not really convinced, but unwilling to deny her anything, Bobby headed for the door. "I'll just go and get them, but I won't let them stay long."  
  
Moments later the sound of heels clicking on the linoleum floor broke the silence. Helen came bursting through the door. "You're awake, finally. I was so worried." Grasping Lindsay by the shoulders she pulled her in for a hug, then released her quickly. "Ooh, ooh, I didn't hurt you did I? Do you need a nurse. I can get the nurse."  
  
"Helen, slow down. I don't need a nurse, I've just got a bit of a headache." More amused by her friend than anything Lindsay leant back against the pillows. "Just sit down."  
  
"Okay but you tell me if you need anything." She sat on the edge of the chair and rested her hands on the bed. "You've got to stop doing this too me Lindsay my heart can't take it."  
  
"Mine either."  
  
"And Bobby…." Helen trailed of as more footsteps approached. "We'll talk later." She whispered.  
  
Suddenly the room was full of people, all talking at once.  
  
"Quiet everyone." Helen said, louder than all of them combined. "Lindsay has a headache."  
  
"Well you yelling right next to her ear is hardly going to help that." Jimmy complained.  
  
"Oh." Helen turned towards Lindsay and whispered. "Sorry."  
  
Shaking his head at all of them, Bobby stepped forward with Rob in his arms. He looked ruffled like he'd just been woken up. "Look who I've got."  
  
"Hey baby." Her eyes filling with tears again at the sight of her son, Lindsay reached out as far as she could without affecting the IV tube. Bobby placed Rob in her lap and she pulled him close for a hug. "Mommy's missed you." Recognising the feel and sound of his Mother, Rob curled his head on her chest and closed his eyes.  
  
"Oh my God, that's so sweet. Has anybody got a tissue?" Sniffling loudly Helen looked around the room.   
  
"Here." Eugene plucked up the box from the bedside and held it out to her. She took three and blew loudly.  
  
"How are you Lindsay?" Rebecca stepped forward until she was at the foot of the bed. She wondered how someone could look so bruised and battered and content at the same time.  
  
"I'll be alright." Running her hand down Rob's hair, Lindsay lent forward and pressed her lips to his forehead. "He's tired." She murmured.  
  
"He's had a big day." Ellenor said.  
  
"Everyone has." Eugene added. "We should let you get some rest Lindsay, we just wanted to make sure you were okay."  
  
"Thanks guys."  
  
"When will you be discharged?" Lucy asked.  
  
"Hopefully tomorrow." Bobby answered, shooting Lindsay an encouraging smile.  
  
Eugene clapped his hands together lightly. "Okay everyone say goodnight."  
  
A chorus of 'Goodnight' and 'I hope you feel better' echoed around the room and one by one everybody filed out. When Ellenor reached down to take Rob, Lindsay didn't want to let him go.   
  
"You'll see him tomorrow." Bobby told her gently, as she watched them leave. "But you need to rest now."  
  
Helen was the last to leave. Still sniffling she leant down to kiss Lindsay's cheek. "I'll come by tomorrow." She promised.  
  
When they were alone, Bobby claimed the seat Helen had been sitting in, and reached out for Lindsay's hand. "You should get some sleep."  
  
"Will you stay?"  
  
With his free hand he smoothed the hair from her face. "Of course I will."  
  
Settling more comfortable into the pillows she turned her head to look at him. "You're going to be uncomfortable in that chair."  
  
"I don't care."  
  
She squeezed his fingers lightly. "Talk to me?"  
  
"What about?"  
  
"I don't care, anything. I just want to hear you your voice."  
  
"Alright, close your eyes." He waited until she did, and keeping his voice low began to speak. He didn't stop even when her breathing evened out, and her features relaxed in sleep.  
  
* * *  
  



	12. Wednesday*

WEDNESDAY  
  
The nightmare gripped her, tearing at her subconscious, clawing across her skin. The more she tried to fight it the more it dragged her down. "No! Don't!"  
  
The first words uttered in terror, penetrated Bobby's own sleep, he lifted his head as he felt Lindsay's hand held beneath his, ball into a fist and then tear free. "Lindsay?" He said gently.  
  
"Leave me alone!" Trapped between consciousness and unconsciousness she watched as her attacker wrapped his fingers around her throat, actually felt the pressure he asserted. But in her mind she could do as she hadn't been able to in reality, she could fight back.  
  
Bobby sat back abruptly as her fingers came millimetres from clawing at his skin. She writhed in apparent agony as she fought her invisible assailant. Trying to be mindful of her injuries but worried about the damage she'd do to herself he wrapped his hands around her wrists and after a brief struggle held them down. Her body thrashed beneath him. "Lindsay, you're having a nightmare, you need to wake up." He tried to keep his voice calm, but was very much aware he wasn't successful.  
  
"You're killing me." Tears fell from beneath closed eyelids.  
  
"No I'm not. It's Bobby, Lindsay. You're safe, but you need to wake up." Taking a chance he released one of her wrists, and rested his hand on her cheek. "Come on sweetie, wake up now."  
  
"Bobby?" Disoriented, shaking and not entirely sure of herself, Lindsay struggled into awareness.  
  
"It's me" He said, letting go of her other wrist, and placing a soft kiss on her forehead. "I'm right here."  
  
"I can't go back there, if I go back he'll kill me."  
  
He leant back slightly so that he could look at her. "You're not going back there, Lindsay. They've got him now, he can't hurt you anymore." He wrapped his arms around her and waited for the tremors to stop. "Do you want me to get a nurse?"  
  
"No. I'm okay." Calmer now, but far from steady, she buried her face in his shoulder. "I just need a minute."  
  
When he felt another tremor, he honestly couldn't have said whether it came from himself or her. Pulling her closer he tightened his hold. "Take all the time you need."  
  
* * *  
  
"Are you sure?" Scully sat on the bed in Mulder's hotel room, her legs tucked up beneath her, the phone pressed to her ear. "When can we see him?" She watched as Mulder haphazardly tossed clothes into his suitcase. "Alright, we'll be there then, thanks."  
  
He gave her a questioning look as she disconnected the phone call. "The Doctors have given him the all clear. He's being prepped for transfer right now, he wants us to see him sometime today. Mulder are you going to fold any of those?"  
  
"Nope."  
  
"That's what I thought." Sighing, she moved her legs and scooted over until she was at the edge of the bed. "Move over." Giving him a shove she pulled the suitcase closer to her and emptied it.  
  
"Hey! I just put all that stuff in there."  
  
The eyebrow lifted. "Your point being?"  
  
He tried for a put upon sigh, that was far from convincing. "You know I don't think I really have one."  
  
Her smile was quick, and full of humor. "I've waited a long time to hear that."  
  
"Ooh nasty, Scully." Wandering into the bathroom he came back with his toiletries bag. "This needs to fit in there as well."  
  
"I live in hope that one of these day's you'll learn to do this for yourself Mulder."  
  
"But then what will you do?" He winced as a pair of balled up socks bounced off his forehead. "Ow, good aim." Deciding it was infinitely safer to change the subject he handed her back the socks. "What do you say when we're…" He looked over at her suitcase standing neatly by the door. "…I'm all packed, we go and grab some breakfast, then head over to the hospital?"  
  
"Sounds good."  
  
"So what did they say about Ed's injury?"  
  
She started putting piles of folded clothes in the case. "It's not as serious as they first thought. The swellings gone down, and there hasn't been any bleeding for a few hours now. He'll be fine as long as he doesn't bump it again until it's healed."  
  
"What are the chances of that happening?"  
  
"Of not re-hurting it until it's better?" When he nodded, she continued. "Well considering he's going to be in prison, I'd say it's pretty slim."  
  
He allowed a small smile. "Yeah that's what I thought."  
  
She closed and zipped the suitcase then pushed it over to him. "Well I'm finished here and I'm starving, so lets get going."  
  
Taking it, he nodded his thanks then made a sweeping gesture with his free hand. "After you."  
  
* * *  
  
The office was quiet.  
  
It was the first thing that Eugene noticed as he walked through the door. He couldn't actually remember the last time he'd walked into silence, normally there was arguing or laughter, or somebody talking on the phone. But this morning there was nothing. It's not as if it were empty, Jimmy, Rebecca and Lucy were all sitting at their desks, they just weren't making any noise, as such the sound of the door closing reverberated.  
  
Rebecca looked over at him. "Hey."  
  
"Hey." He greeted in return.  
  
"Did you go by and see them?"  
  
He shook his head and leant against Lindsay's desk. "No, I didn't want to bother them, they need some time together."  
  
"Yeah." Lucy joined in the conversation. "This is going to be a lot for them to come to terms with."  
  
"Well at least they got her out alright though, that's the main thing isn't it?" Jimmy asked.  
  
"You'd think." Rebecca agreed. "But she was pretty close to the edge with Hinks and Bobby's involvement, now with this on the heels of that." She sighed. "I just wish there was something we could do."  
  
"The only thing we can do is be there for them if they need us." Eugene said. "And I guess take as much pressure off them here as we can."  
  
Rebecca rested her chin on her hand. "It doesn't seem enough."  
  
Eugene shrugged. "I don't know what else there is."  
  
"Is Lindsay definitely being released today?" Lucy asked.  
  
"As far as I know."  
  
"Well maybe we should go over this afternoon. You know, keep her occupied, let her know we're here for her."  
  
"And bring them some food." Jimmy jumped in. "So they don't have to worry about cooking."  
  
Eugene shook his head. "I don't think that's a good idea. I think they might need some space today. We can visit them tomorrow."  
  
They all looked like they wanted to object, until Rebecca nodded. "I think you're right. Bobby's the best thing for Lindsay now. He'll be able to help her a lot more than we can."  
  
"At least she has peace of mind that they've caught the guy, and that he can't hurt her anymore." Jimmy added.  
  
"That's true." Rebecca agreed. "You know it's times like this I really wish I was a prosecutor. I'd love to throw the book at him."  
  
"Do you know what sentence he's going to get?" Jimmy asked Eugene.  
  
"No idea." Eugene shrugged. "That's up to the Feds, but considering how much trouble Agent Mulder went to too catch him I don't think they'll be that eager to let him go in a hurry."  
  
* * *  
  
"Knock, knock." Mulder taped lightly on the side of the wall before stepping inside the room. Lindsay was lying on the bed, propped up against the pillows, while Bobby sat in the uncomfortable chair beside her. They both looked over as Mulder and Scully entered.  
  
"Hi." Bobby stood as they came further into the room. "Lindsay, this is Agents Mulder and Scully, they were investigating your case."  
  
Scully gave a small nod of her head. "We met yesterday, briefly."  
  
"Oh." Bobby jammed his hands in his pockets. "Of course you did."  
  
"How are you feeling?" Mulder asked.  
  
"A little sore." Instinctively Lindsay reached up to touch the bandaging beside her eye. "I think I'll feel better when I can go home."  
  
"We spoke to your doctor on the way in, you should be released this afternoon."  
  
"That's great." Idly she played with the edges of the sheet, before raising her eyes to meet Mulder's. "You've really got him haven't you, he's not going to off?"  
  
"No." Mulder reassured her. "He won't get off, he's going to jail for a very long time."  
  
"It's just….." Her fingers clutched at the sheet again. "I'm a defense attorney, I know sometimes there's loopholes, and…."  
  
"You don't need to worry about that." Scully told her. "We've got a strong case against him, he won't walk away from this. We're going to have someone from the field office come by later and take your statement."  
  
Bobby looked at her in surprise. "You won't be doing it?"  
  
"No." Scully shook her head. "We have to get back to Washington, so the field office will be taking over the case."  
  
"You don't need to worry though, Agents Miller and Griffin have been investigating with us, they're very familiar with the details. You're in good hands." Mulder added.  
  
Scully looked at her watch. "Actually if we want enough time to stop by the jail before our flight, we should probably get going." She smiled at Lindsay. "We just wanted to stop by and make sure you were alright."  
  
Bobby frowned. "I thought you said the field office was taking over the case."  
  
"They are." Mulder confirmed. "But Edmund asked to speak to us before we left. We have a history." He shrugged uncomfortably.  
  
Scully cleared her throat. "Well anyway…."  
  
"Thank you both so much for everything." Lindsay blinked back tears. "Sorry, I'm still a bit emotional."  
  
"We're just glad everything worked out for you." Scully gave her an understanding smile.  
  
Mulder looked over at Bobby. "I don't suppose you'd like to walk us out?"  
  
Lindsay looked between them. "Is something wrong?"  
  
"No, no everything's fine, I just want to follow up on a conversation we were having earlier."  
  
Bobby looked down at her. "Will you be alright for a couple of minutes?"  
  
She nodded. "I'll be fine."  
  
Leaning down he placed a kiss on her forehead. "I won't be long." He let Mulder and Scully lead the way out of the room and down the short corridor to the elevators. "What's the matter?" He asked.  
  
They were interrupted by the dinging of the elevator and the doors opening. Helen stepped out almost right on top of them. "Where are you going?" She asked Bobby, surprised.  
  
"I'm just walking Agents Mulder and Scully to their car."  
  
"Is Lindsay awake?"  
  
He nodded. "Yeah, actually if you could keep her company until I get back that'd be great."  
  
"No problem." She turned to Mulder and Scully. "I didn't get a chance to thank you yesterday. If you hadn't found Lindsay when you did….." She started rapidly blinking. "I promised myself I wasn't going to cry today." She sniffed and started rummaging around in her bag for a tissue. "But when I think about what might have happened…" Locating one she blew her nose loudly. "Well, we all owe you a great debt. Thank you so much." The end of the sentence was muffled as she blew her nose again.  
  
"We're just happy we could help." Mulder answered.  
  
"Well, I'm going to go and see Lindsay. Take your time." She told Bobby.  
  
They all stepped into the elevator as Helen hurried down the corridor. "Sorry about that, Lindsay's her best friend." Bobby said, as the doors opened to the car park. They all started walking. "So what did you want to talk to me about?"  
  
"Actually I was wondering if you'd be interested in following up on the subconscious link you developed with Lindsay?"  
  
Bobby stopped and turned towards Mulder. "What do you mean?"  
  
"Well I have some experience with unexplained phenomenon, I could help you explore it. Maybe through hypnosis, memory regression…."  
  
"Agent Mulder…."  
  
"Bobby as much as everyone's thanking us for solving this case, we all know that we were only half of the solution. Your dreams were pinpoint accurate, the description of the room, of Lindsay's wounds, of the knife. Don't you want to know how or why it was possible?"  
  
Bobby thought about it for a moment. "Honestly, I'd have to say no." When Mulder opened his mouth to protest, he held up a hand. "Agent Mulder words can't describe how grateful I am to you for what you've done for us. You gave me back Lindsay, and if my dreams helped you out that's great. But all I ever wanted since this whole thing began was to have her back safely, and she is. Now all I want is to take her home, watch her play with our son and help her get through this. I can't focus on anything else but that, I'm sorry."  
  
"Won't you always wonder?" Mulder asked him.  
  
Bobby shrugged. "Not really, I love Lindsay, she loves me, if you need to put a title on our link you can always use that one."  
  
Understanding that the conversation wasn't going to go any further, Mulder nodded. "Well if you ever change your mind you have my number."  
  
"Okay." Bobby shook Mulder's hand and then Scully's. "Thank you again."  
  
* * *  
  
"You're looking better." Helen took in Lindsay's appearance, the swollen eye, the white bandages covering pale skin.  
  
"Really?" Lindsay asked.  
  
Helen turned her head to the side, thoughtfully. "No. Not really."  
  
"Gee thanks."  
  
"Anytime babe." She sat down and reached out to touch Lindsay's arm. "God Lindsay, just yesterday I was sitting in my office wondering if I'd ever get to see you again, and now you're here in front of me. I can't believe it." She started to check her pockets for the tissue again, before giving up and plucking one out of the box beside the bed. "And now I'm gonna start crying again, even though I promised myself I wouldn't."  
  
Lindsay reached for one herself. "If you start I will." She dabbed lightly at her good eye. "And it hurts more when I do it."  
  
"Okay." Taking a deep breath Helen forced herself to calm down. "We'll both be strong." She managed to hold out for about two seconds before her eyes filled again. "It's just we were all so worried about you." Balling the wet tissue up she tossed it in the bin and reached for another one. "Poor Bobby was a wreck. I've never seen him like that before."  
  
Tears welled in Lindsay's eyes again. "Really?"  
  
"He was so upset and worried, we couldn't comfort him. Eugene and Rebecca stayed with him the whole time, but even then he kept to himself."  
  
"That sounds like Bobby."  
  
"And it only got worse once the dreams started……"  
  
"What dreams?" Lindsay interrupted.  
  
"Oh." Helen started to back pedal. "Umm he hasn't mentioned them?"  
  
"No. What are you talking about Helen?"  
  
"Maybe…." Helen looked towards the door. "Maybe we should just wait for Bobby to come back, I'm sure he'll be here soon."  
  
"Just tell me."  
  
Helen sighed. "Alright. Bobby started having these dreams about you. Where you were being held, what was happening to you, that kind of thing. He was convinced they were real."  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"Well, we didn't really believe him, we thought it was just because he missed you so much. I mean it was a bit far fetched." She said defensively.  
  
"It's okay Helen, keep going."  
  
"He talked to Agent Mulder about them, he was telling him what happened and he described this knife with a red stone in the handle…."  
  
A shiver ran up Lindsay's spine. "With a snake engraved on it?"  
  
"Yes." Helen nodded in understanding. "Only an hour before they'd found it in the man that Edmund had killed. That got everyone's attention, Bobby could describe the room you were in, how you were hurt."  
  
"How?" Lindsay could barely work the word past the lump in her throat.  
  
"I don't know." Helen took hold of Lindsay's hand. "I can't explain it. But the next night he dreamt about you trying to escape, trying to break a window with your fists." Gently she lifted one of Lindsay's battered hands. "He could give a description of the yard the street. When the F.B.I. figured out what area you were being held in, they used Bobby's description to find you." She paused as she looked at Lindsay's confused eyes. "Lindsay, Mike went into the room that you were being held in, he said it fit Bobby's description exactly."  
  
"That…." Lindsay swallowed. "That doesn't make sense, Bobby was never there."  
  
"We know. After the second dream Bobby was certain you were trying to communicate with him, he became obsessed about trying to reach you. He shut himself in your study all day, I've never seen him look so lost when he came back out."  
  
"It didn't work?"  
  
Helen shook her head. "He loves you so much Lindsay. Even I was ready to put it down to wishful thinking on his behalf."  
  
"But that wouldn't explain how he knew all the details."  
  
"Maybe you should ask him about it."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"In the meantime," Helen sat back in the chair. "Lets talk about me."  
  
* * *  
  
A guard met them at the gate of the maximum security lock up that now housed Edmund. They were led through one locked door after another, asked at one point to hand in their weapons and sign their names, before finally being shown to the holding room. The guard released the lock, with the finale advice to yell if they needed help, before letting them enter. Edmund sat, clothed in the standard orange prison jumpsuit, shackled to the edge of the table, his face a multitude of colours from the bruising.  
  
"Hello Ed." Mulder walked towards him, pulling out a chair on the opposite side of the table and sat down. Scully did the same.  
  
"Agent Mulder." Edmund nodded his head in greeting, and then turned to Scully. "Agent Scully, it's a pleasure to finally meet you."  
  
"Is it Ed?" Mulder drew Edmund's gaze back to him. "If things had gone according to your plan, you wouldn't have seen either of us?"  
  
"Well that is true." He tried for a casual shrug, "You know what they say about best laid plans."  
  
"Yes I do." Mulder sat back in his chair and made himself more comfortable. "And I have to say Ed, you're taking losing a lot better than I thought you would."  
  
"Well." Edmund gave Mulder an amused smirk. "Maybe I don't see the game as being over yet. I mean I haven't had my trial yet Agent Mulder. The outcome is still to be decided."  
  
"We have a pretty tight case against you Ed, I'm not that worried."  
  
"Well it won't be your first mistake, to relax your guard against me."  
  
Scully raised an eyebrow. "Or yours apparently."  
  
Edmund glared at her. "You both think you're so smart. Patting yourselves on the back for putting the bad guy behind bars." He brought his hands together in a mock clap, and the chains jangled. "But you'd still be scratching your heads if it wasn't for me."  
  
"Is that why you brought us here Ed, to try to make yourself feel better about your part in all of this?"  
  
Anger boiled inside him. "I don't need to feel better about my part Agent Mulder. I have no guilt about any of it."  
  
"Then what are we talking about?"  
  
"You Agent Mulder, we're talking about you. You wanted to hurt me yesterday, everybody in this room knows it." He held his fingers close together. "You came this close to crossing the line. You can go home feeling all good about yourself, but something tells me when you're lying in bed at night trying to sleep, you're going to be thinking about that."  
  
"Maybe." Mulder barely resisted the urge to move in his seat. "Or maybe I'll just be content with the fact that the only place you'll be going for the next 20 years is back to your cell."  
  
A smug grin came over Edmunds face. "Oh I don't think it'll be that long before we play again Agent Mulder." He let his gaze drift slowly over Scully. "In fact I think I already have an idea who my next choice will be."  
  
Before he could think Mulder was on his feet, leaning over the table. Scully was standing as well, her hand restraining him. "He's taunting you Mulder."  
  
Edmund kept his gaze locked on Mulder's. "You don't want to hurt me do you Agent Mulder. An upstanding member of the law enforcement community wouldn't possibly be harbouring any bad intentions towards an unarmed prisoner would they?" He clucked his tongue. "Do your superiors know about this violent streak of yours?"  
  
"Let's go, Mulder." Scully squeezed his arm, and pulled him back a step. "He's baiting you, you have to stop playing his game. It's over." She turned towards Edmund, purposely putting herself between the two men. "It's over." She repeated, and walked with Mulder towards the door.  
  
"Agent Mulder." Edmund called out to him, and waited until Mulder turned around. "You know what they say, 'he who laughs last, laughs loudest.'"  
  
"Something tells me you're not going to have much to laugh about in here Ed, but give it a shot." And without looking back, Mulder turned and left the room, Scully right behind him.  
  
* * *  
  
"Hey." Lindsay looked up as Bobby entered the room. "Where have you been?"  
  
"I was just taking a walk, thought I'd get a bit of fresh air." He walked around to the far side of the bed and sat down.  
  
"Well…" Helen looked down at her watch. "Is that the time already? I really should get going."  
  
Bobby raised an eyebrow. "Are you alright Helen?"  
  
"Me? I'm fine, I just have to…. uh… be somewhere." She squeezed Lindsay's hand. "I'll talk to you soon, bye." They both watched as she scurried from the room.  
  
Bobby turned to Lindsay with an inquisitive look. "What was all that about?"  
  
"She told me about your dreams."  
  
"Oh." He looked down, then up, then down again. "Oh, yeah I was going to mention those."  
  
"Why didn't you Bobby?"  
  
"I don't know."  
  
"Look at me."  
  
After a moment he did. "I guess I was just worried that it would sound strange. God knows I had enough trouble convincing the others."  
  
"Tell me."  
  
Getting to his feet he started pacing the room. "It's hard to explain, it was more than a dream, I didn't just see what was happening, I could feel it too." He paused his pacing when he got to the foot of her bed. "Sometimes it was a little confusing, at first I'd think it was me but then I'd see your reflection, or hear your voice. I watched him attack you Lindsay, I watched you try to escape, it was the hardest thing I've ever had to experience."  
  
"But how?"  
  
He shrugged, took a few more paces and then slumped back down in the chair. "I don't know. Agent Mulder's best theory was that we've suffered one to many tragedies, your stabbing, when I was held hostage, William Hinks." He reached for her hand. "He thought that somehow we managed to create a bond. He was really very open to the whole thing."  
  
"Is that what he wanted to talk to you about?"  
  
"Yeah, he asked me if I was interested in studying it. Maybe with hypnosis, so they could see how it came about."  
  
"What did you tell him."  
  
He shifted his hand so his fingers linked with hers. "I told him I wasn't interested. That all I wanted to do was take my wife home, pick up my son, and take care of my family. You're safe Lindsay and that's all I need to know."  
  
She'd lost count of how many tears she'd shed that morning, but again she felt her eyes fill. "I love you."  
  
He lifted their joined hands and brushed his lips over her knuckles. "I love you too."  
  
* * *  
  
"Are you alright?" Scully turned her head to where Mulder sat brooding beside her. They'd been sitting in the crowded airport for half and hour waiting for their flight.  
  
"Do you think he could be right, Scully?"  
  
Closing the file on her lap, she sat up straighter. "Mulder I think this is exactly what he wanted. He wants you to think of him, and he wants you to doubt yourself. You're playing right into his hands."  
  
He shifted in his seat. "Yes but…"  
  
"But what?"  
  
"For a moment yesterday I really did want to hurt him Scully. I mean consequences be damned I wanted to punish him. I wanted the same thing today."  
  
"But you didn't."  
  
"Only because both times you were there to stop me. What would have happened if you hadn't been?"  
  
"I don't think it would have made any difference. You would have handled it Mulder, the same way you have in the past."  
  
"I hope so. He just made me so angry."  
  
"He did that deliberately Mulder." She sighed when he frowned at her. "You've been so close to this case the entire time, so wrapped up in finding Lindsay, that you couldn't see that Edmund was really playing you. It was you who put him away, Lindsay was incidental to him in the grand scheme of things. He chose her at random as a means to get to you. The one he wanted all along."  
  
She leant down to pack the file back in her overnight bag, before sitting up and looking at him. "And when he couldn't prove his superiority to you by beating you at his so called game, he tried anther tact. If he can get you to doubt yourself, the next time you're in a similar position you might question yourself, which could possibly get you killed and then he'd win. Mulder, he's spent nine years studying you, he knows what buttons to push, and nothing gets you madder than having someone you care about threatened. Don't keep playing his game, you've already won."  
  
The announcer called their flight, but they continued to sit there as Mulder just stared at her. "How'd you get so smart, Scully?"  
  
She gave him a small smile, then stood and picked up her carry on. "I don't know, it must be the company I keep."  
  
He stood beside her and picked up his own bag. "I don't know, I think you're smarter than that guy you work with."  
  
She pondered for a moment. "Oh you'd be surprised, he has his moments."  
  
"Really?" When she nodded, he gave her a cheeky smile. "Maybe you can tell me about them on the flight home."  
  
Returning his smile, she handed their boarding passes, to the stewardess. "Maybe I will."  
  
As one they turned and walked up the ramp.  
  
  
THE END  
  



End file.
